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Darrik Reynolds

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About Darrik Reynolds

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  1. THE SIMON MAGUS BURLESQUE AND ABSINTHE BAR "Not most days." Darrik told her. "Last night and today were special." Just how special was to be left unsaid. "Now, Dominique is in, and I will introduce you to her shortly. She makes the decisions relating to bar tending, but I wouldn't worry too much. If you're prepared, I imagine she'll approve of you. Any questions?"
  2. THE SIMON MAGUS BURLESQUE AND ABSINTHE BAR MORNING  "Hard to say." The signs of tiredness showed in Darrik's eyes as he closed the safe door and the tumblers slid into place as he locked it shut. "Intuition says yeah, not a coincidence. But we don't know more beyond what it sounds like. And that only the supernaturals really picked up on it. Silver lining, we're raking it in." He chuckled, but it was a rather hollow one. That was the thing about neutral ground this past day. The nexus for omens of bad news, but not enough knowledge to be able to do something about it. Darrik decided to pick a topic they could deal with. "The Regent. Her request. Your grimoire, how do you want to play this, Dominique?"
  3. Darrik understood that Dominique needed these outings, it was like she was a cat in that sense, staking her independent spirit out there. He understood and respected that, but would it kill her to at least send some kind of notice? Because after all, today was a day that had left him fearing the possibility something terrible had happened to her. "Office." Darrik softly said, walking past her without meeting her gaze. For the second time this day, Darrik entered with a second person to have a second private chat. Dominique entered, watching Darrik shut the door behind them. It was only now that she noticed the tension or lingering signs of it anyway, that had laced Darrik's form. "In answer to your question today turned out to be... not the worst day... top five - certainly top ten minimum," Darrik's hands flashed the numbers, "for you to pull your disappearing act, Dom." Dominique only permitted 'Dom' to be used by close friends, like Darrik, and even then the understanding was that it was reserved for when it was serious. "How bad?" "Let's see. I come in this morning to open, only to find Joe Jones rudely waiting and demanding I set up a meeting for Lilith and the Regent. Enter timely a pair of elder vampire siblings, the brother of which, one Marko Angelo is an utter asshole. Who also demanded to see the Regent. She arrives then and there as if she planned it. Marco apparently, is some kind of old foe to the Nine Covens who practically threatened war if they didn't help remove this curse placed by one Mother Walters. Which ironically enough, appears to be forcing him to be a good person. And apparently, his appearance is an omen of catastrophe enough for Lilith to decide to violate the rules and attack him on sight. Got her ass kicked, serves her right." Darrik muttered that last comment more darkly before resuming his diatribe of diabolical daily discoveries. "Once people actually start doing something like behaving, we learn the reason Lilith wanted the meeting. Witches, unknowns, kidnapped a relative of the Bayou Pack, were killed by a rescuing werewolf, and the whole thing happened on vampire turf. Oh, and someone had sent people to ambush Psycho-Marko clumsily made to look like Lilith's orders. I oversee the return of the werewolf girl to the bar, making sure she was clean magic-wise and giving the nod for her family to leave with her. The Regent comes back a bit later, and in this office says she wants to see you and was willing to wait for hours before giving up. Marguerite didn't say why until while leaving, asking if I'd seen your grimoire. I said I'd seen it, but I haven't seen it. If I had to guess, it had something to do with those symbols in the photos of the Rosemary's Werewolf scene. No more problems for the rest of the day - except of course my ever-increasing worry that our discord-spreading troublemakers might have jumped you. Any questions?"
  4. "Well," Darrik politely said, "drop off a resume and references tomorrow and I'll get back to you, Erica." This was more Dominique's side of the business - and of course she wasn't here. "Anything else?"
  5. The lump of anger-concern-frustration had piled on layers in Darrik's mind, but one important skill he'd learned in his life, well already by the time of being a Nawlins stripper, was keeping internal concerns from your face and demeanor on the clock. Customers wanted gyrating and hot fantasy and that Darrik was almost theirs for the taking (no touching, after all), not even the slightest inkling of concern about if the landlord was going to get around to having the AC fixed (and if you had to place a curse on the dummy to make it happen). It was a role, an act, same principle with the bartender. It was expected, and the customer was always right. So Darrik moved along to the blond with a smile. "Hi. Do you need anything?"
  6. "No party time." Darrik chimed in. "I don't serve underage drinkers." When asked for things he would need, Darrik shrugged. "I imagine all the things she would need when staying over at someone's house. Change of clothes, toothbrush, the usual. A backpack to keep it in..." At Karen's surprised look, Darrik looked back nonchalantly. "What? I have security covered. Trade secrets and all." He waved his hand and then nodded approvingly. "Melody's clean."
  7. "He has a point." Darrik added finally. "We may not know who is behind this, but if someone is trying to cause a conflict between the factions, the longer you keep her, the longer this risks playing into their hands, Lilith. I doubt the person or people are going to act twice with the same move."
  8. "Darrik." In truth, Cara could tell Darrik was not just pretty, damn fucking hot. Marco could make shots about it being not stereotypically manly, but there it was. "It has its' share of headaches, but it serves an important purposes - and most people are generally better behaved." With Marco, it went practically without saying. The whole flurry of the fight occurred before Darrik could prepare anything to say or response. When it was broken up, he had a few thoughts running through his head. One, it was very fortunate that the curse was restraining Marco because he was that dangerous and if he were the Regent he would not be making any deal. It sounded like Marco was not cognizant of what Mother Walters meant, so no loophole for him to wriggle out of. The second was the reminder to keep that pleasant arbitration face, because he was angry. It wasn't the initial entries, that was just an annoyance - but the general violence now was something else. Not even simply Marco, clearly an unpleasant outsider (whatever he might have been in Nawlins in the past), as the Regent observed, Lilith should have known better. Simon Magus was his place (and Dominique's) and whatever backing the powers that be gave to it for its diplomatic utility, the two had to put their reputation and name to help enforce it at first. Now he just took a quiet breath and let the werewolves present their case.
  9. Darrik simply stayed quiet and waited, letting Marguerite and Marko hash things out. A self-professed psychopath (fortunately restricted by this curse), his sister of unknown tendencies, and Lilith due to arrive. Some days he wondered what the hell he'd been thinking, explicitly setting up his bar as neutral grounds for the supernatural factions.
  10. Darrik bore it all impassively, but the internal alarm system was definitely above Code Green. Lilith's pushy representative, the Regent and company, and an arrogant, officially reviled, potentially very dangerous vampire, all in here way too early. Plus soon Lilith herself, according to Joe's original comments. It was probably as well Dominique was not here yet. "Fine. Joe, call Lilith, then give me your drink order. Same for Marko... Margritte and friends." And he observed the open door and the figure lurking beyond. "And to the gentleman or lady just outside, we're not open, unless you remarkably happen to have special business with someone already here."
  11. Darrik sighed and turned the key, opening up the door and holding it open with an exaggerated air of courtesy. "After you." Inwardly he did not associated these kinds of visits with good news. Joe passed in, and so did Darrik. Dominique was the bartender, but Darrik knew enough to passably fill in in an emergency. "So, what do you want?" Jones paused in thought, but before he could answer, Darrik cut him off. "You're getting water." Serves him right for pulling the menacing stealth move. Besides, it wasn't business hours.
  12. Name: Darrik Reynolds Age: 28 Place of Origin: Unknown Gender: Male Height: 6'0” Weight: 160 lbs Hair: Black and red striped Eyes: Red Occupation: Burlesque bar co-owner Background Darrik Reynolds' past is generally unknown to the supernaturals of New Orleans, before he came into town approximately 5 years ago. At first he ingratiated himself into the witch community with charm and sex appeal - not many witches have worked as strippers, after all. His closest friend is Dominque de la Croix. Together they (with a cache of money Darrik seemed to have been keeping away) opened up the Simon Magus Burlesque and Absinthe Bar, explicit neutral ground territory for the supernatural factions, a factor that has helped it's success for 3 years running. Dominque is lead bartender, Darrik is the manager and oversees the entertainment.
  13. "This is going to take a bit." Darrik summed up, letting a knot of hounds have face-fulls of his black shards.
  14. "Repulsive fiend." Darrik remarked as he joined the fray, lovely handsome face that of a composed, yet cold statue now. Shadows rippled about before black skeins formed about his hands. With the right hand, Darrik played his fingers the way he might use them to please (and would immensely so) a lover, but this time the flickering fingers made war, not love. The threads surged and formed into several ropey constructs of darkness, which Darrik tossed with a snap of the wrist at the demon. "Kage no Ken!" His left hand squeezed as if it could and was compacting stone, and darkness shaped like shards formed into place. As the demon faced the first stygian spell, Darrik brought both hands together and thrust them forward, launching waves of those dark shards at Iratos. "Kurayami o Osu!"
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