[Ermentrude Osbjornsdotter]

Location: The Blood Moon Inn Bar • Date: 27 June 2003

Ermentrude piled another dirty glass onto her tray, swinging the jumble up onto her hand to march it back behind the bar. She swerved around a gaggle of rowdy drinkers, being careful to avoid the flailing limbs as a portly fellow regaled his mates with some tall tale. It was a Friday night, and the Inn's bar was packed.

Preferring the calmer week nights, when Erme could spare a few moments to socialize with the guests in the booths and at the tables. She'd taken this job to be around humans - mortals were so fascinating. They were always so dramatic. Everything was life and death, and it was one of Erme's favorite past times to listen to their tales of woe and try to offer her support - no matter if it was wanted, or not. Tonight, though, was too busy for such dalliances.

Erme skirted around the side of the bar and began emptying her overloaded tray into the charmed sink that would take care of the dirty work. She glanced up and over the crowd, trying to determine the room's mood. With the kinds of crowds the Inn drew, it was always a toss up whether the night would go smoothly when it was full like this. Erme never really knew whether she wanted a dust up or not. On the one hand - entertainment. On the other - it created more work for her. Tonight was so far so good. But who knew for long that would last.

[Blain Tudor]

"I'm telling you mate, he's not just going to hand it over. Why do you think they assign me to these jobs?" Actually why hadn't they assigned him to the case he had been drilling his co-worker about as they walked down the dark streets. The gruff looking man, took a seat at the bar itself making his point of him never sitting at a table obvious to the gentlemen with him.
"He's gonna fight it, They always do."

As the barkeep, a tall, broody fellow took his order he looked around.
"Quiet in here."

[Dillian Smith]

"Because we keep order." He said roughly, the full moon was soon and while his lovely little co-worker; the one helping him ensure his supply of he one potion that kept him same when he turned was having fun with the mortals, the full moon was soon for him and it was making him grumpy and not in the mood.


Passing the drink over, he looked at his co-worker who was doing her rounds. Everyone served up to date, he took the chance.
"Going out for a quick one." He grabbed his jacket, or...at least where he thought he had put is. "Emm...where is my jacket?"

[Nikita Ilyenkov]

Nika nodded along with Blain. He'd been with the betting house a couple of months, but still felt like a noobie. Nikita found it easiest to just smile and nod in agreement with whatever his coworkers said - pretending like he knew what they were talking about was easier than fessing up to his lack of knowledge. It had worked so far, but he dreaded the day it bit him in the behind.

"Da, and you will get what is owed. Like always." Unlike his coworker Blain, Nika didn't have to go after people. All Nika did was stand around inside the betting parlor and look intimidating so as to dissuade would be troublemakers. It was, to be frank, a little boring. Especially compared to the stories people with jobs like Blain told him. The Blood Moon Inn was quickly turning into Nika's most common after-work stop for a drink before trudging back to his empty apartment. Especially on nights like these where his best friend, Rey, was out of town. He recognized the two behind the bar from other nights he'd been in. He knew that what the bartender said about keeping order was true.

He ignored the duo working the bar and turned back to his co-worker "Quiet is good, no?" He preferred quiet.

[Ermentrude Osbjornsdotter]

Erme hadn't been paying much attention to what was going on around her, but when her co-worker asked about his jacket she looked up from what she was doing and glanced back at him.

"No, mon cherie. I have not seen your jacket." Her face twisted up in confusion and she set down the last glass into the sink. "You left it in the back room, yes?" She wasn't too keen on finding the old, ratty leather thing. It was better off staying lost.

[Blain Tudor]

Well of course he would...That's what his job was, but he hadn't been put on the case. They would regret that he assumed when the person who they gave it to didn't get their money back. He paused, looking from his glass,
"Think they have it to that one guy? The man who never gets his assignments in person?" He asked, not thinking of this guy as a noobie. He thought the man had what it takes for the job.

Looking at the man at the bar he blinked, as if suddenly remembering who the man was. Yup, he sure kept order. Kept it as he tossed out anyone that tried to cause disorder.
"It can be...if one isn't in knockturn alley." He chuckled. "Good thing we know how to take care of ourselves." He added, the men from thier company being accustomed to the area.

[Dillian Smith]

Back office? No...he never kept it there. Didn't trust people enough, co-workers picking up checks...coming in to drink and check the work hours they were assigned...Nope. His jacket never laid foot in the office, nor was it ratty in his opinion. It had character, though that didn't mean the vampire looked bad in the least...they just have different styles. Problem was his smokes were in the pocket.
"Emm, you know how I am about that back office." He reminded the vampire, keeping out the details due to the customers around him. He didn't want them thinking the establishment was untrusting.

"No need to here," He countered, as politely as he could. "Keeping this invirement safe is our job, even if this is knockturn alley." He added, taking what job he had with pride. In all his years he never did anything half way.

[Nikita Ilyenkov]

Nika listened along, nodding in the appropriate spots and sipping his drink to prolong the moment before he had to answer Blain. "I do no know those things. I am mere security. They do not let me in on the big decisions. But they should give it to you. Would be better." he didn't know much about the other debt collectors. And he knew less about the guy Blain spoke of. He glanced around the inn's bar, before looking back to his co-worker. It was good in deed that they could take care of themselves. The crowd in here could get rather ... unsavory. On certain nights, at least.

He nodded his agreement, glancing warily at the bartender who seemed upset at his missing jacket and took another long pull of his drink. Good thing, indeed.

[Ermentrude Osbjornsdotter]

Erme paused, oh yes. It wasn't this co-worker that kept his items in a locker in the back. This happened occasionally, her mixing up co-workers. Not often, and not usually the wolf. He was unique enough that he stood out in her mind. But somehow she'd gotten him confused with another bartender. Not that she'd ever admit to her mistake. Never in a million years.

"Well then if it is no there, then I do not know where it might have gone, mon petit. As you have pointed out, this is Knockturn Alley. It could have gone any manner of places." She looked down the bar at the faces collected there. Some had been sitting there drinking for hours, a couple of stools had been vacated since her co-worker had come in. This place - thanks to its location and lax hiring requirements - drew in some rather interesting folks. Many of whom would have no qualms about walking off with an employees belongings. Not that Erme mourned the loss, but she knew the wolf would.

[Blain Tudor]

He blinked, before smirking taking a drink to keep his energy up...because. He's blain after all and known for his energy....hate to disappoint the crowd.
"You've not heard..." He chuckles. "Dude, he's not that big....at least in business. Rumors? That's another story." He couldn't believe said rumors hadn't gotten to security yet...
"Legend says, he gets his cases by mail and has only met with the boss once, But always seems to get the job done." He took another drink. "But, your right. Job should totally be mine." His cockiness poking through.

"Does that...include your jacket?" Both eyebrows raised. "Because if you can't handle a jacket...I'd hate to trust you with my safety here, my man beside me could watch a jacket." The former Gryffindor obviously overstepping his bounds.

[Dillian Smith]

He groaned, that was just great... Like he could afford another one. Or a pack of smokes at the moment, something he was not intently craving now that he knew he had none. His jacket would be mourned, He loved it....which was obvious with it's wear and tear.
"That's just bloody fantastic, took my pack then too." He remembered the co worker who'd sat for an hour drinking, instantly thinking it had to be him that had taken it....A pretty dumb move on his co-workers part.
"Probably that new hire that sat here for an hour." And the chances of him coming back after stealing?

One of the men seemed to know his limits, letting the other talk his way into Dillians target range alone. Dillian looking up at Emm with an expression of, 'Am I hearing this right?' Because it was usually a cold day in hell someone spoke to a barkeep from the blood moon inn like that. Any of them.
"I'd enjoy your drink and gossip needlessly about work if I were you." He said bluntly.

[Nikita Ilyenkov]

"I do not listen much to rumors. I am not one for gossiping like teenage girls." He smirked, sipping slowly from his drink. "If legend says, must be true? I am not impressed by this mystery man." Nika all but scoffed. He didn't quite understand why the man received special treatment, he only thought that those who showed their faces were most trustworthy. Like Blain.

Glancing around the bar, casually sipping his drink, he almost missed Blain's comment to the bartender. He caught it, though, and the words had him chuckling into his glass and almost snorting some of the liquid where it really didn't belong. Nika could do more than watch the jacket. Blain knew that. But just the sentiment was hilarious to him. The bartender didn't look all that pleased with them at the moment, though. "Yes. Jackets are tricky. You must keep close eye on them. I have much experience watching all kinds of jackets." It was more the men wearing the jacket he was watching, but the sentiment remained the same. And while poking the prickly bartender at one of his favorite haunts was maybe not the best idea, that didn't make it less fun.

[Ermentrude Osbjornsdotter]

"It is good that they took your death sticks" Erme scrunched up her nose "but I do not know who would steal that rag on purpose." Dillian knew well her disdain for his old leather thing. She'd offered many a time to help fund a newer, nicer looking garment but he'd turned her down every time. "Maybe it was an accident?" She soothed, eyeing the mouthy men at the bar but studiously ignoring them. She wished Dillain would do the same, but she knew it was for naught. As the men continued to prod him, Dillian would only grow more irritated. And that rarely led anywhere good.

Glancing out of the corner of her eyes towards the men at the bar she willed them to drop it. But knew that was unlikely to happen. They'd been sitting here, drinking. They weren't stunk drunk, but they weren't totally sober either. Now that both men had started in on the teasing, this was likely to get ugly.

"Why do you not take a break, go buy more death sticks. Maybe call the man who was here in the afternoon, see if it was an accident he took your jacket." And leave the men alone, was the implication. They were poking the bear, and annoying. For now. But any more and Dillian might snap.

[Blain Tudor]

He blinked, did him and his buds just get called teenage girls? Was wondering why one man got special treatment and talking about it really that bad of gossip? If anything...no they weren't teenage girls.
"I don't know if I should be or not...after all he has gotten every case done..." He muttered to himself. The bartenders words lost on him as he stirred his drink. His co-workers comment brought him back to reality though.
"See? He can watch a jacket." He was feeling a little too proud of himself as he said that.

"In anycase...doesn't this place being dead effect your tips? Maybe I could bring some friends in." He was speaking more to the woman knowing he was already testing the mans patients.

[Dillian Smith]

"Ok, you call it a rag...I call it well lived." He corrected her, his jacket wasn't a rag in the least to him. She'd told him a few times to ditch it, she'd even get him one. He'd happily denied her every time...Now though it looked like he was going to have to use his said tips to get another one he'd wear until it fell apart.
"And my death sticks keep people like there two alive." He muttered, glad he kept his wallet under the till and not in his pockets. Sucked for the man that took his jacket. No money and all smokes. His words however should have been a clear warning to the two at the counter drinking their newest paycheck away.


"Call him? Or beat him within an inch of his life?" He asked, he'd done it before...and the people said nothing to him about it because he did his job so well. They also knew what they were getting into when hiring a werewolf, he assumed they were just biting the bullets.
"Fine, but these two better be acting better when I return." He started to head to the door.