[@King Tai][@BlackPanther]

You couldn't have picked a better place to begin a search for a degenerate lowlife, even one of the supernatural kind.

One step into the bar and they were the star attraction, her and Camille, every eye leering upon them, from the hustlers and gamblers crowding around the shabby poker tables and pool halls to the burly, brutish bikers, street rats, and hoodlums giving them rather licentious grins full of black, rotten teeth.  Hell, even the whores were giving Camille and Rebecca quite the lurid stares, reminded the woman of the times she used to frequent the brothels in Germany.  [i][color=ed1c24]And I wonder why that idiot Stone sends us on missions such as these.[/color][/i]  She pondered.  Such a place, filthy, rowdy, definitely where one such as Vlad, given his description, would spend his evenings, up to no good of course.  And definitely after this Rebecca would need a nice hot bath...and perhaps a relaxing massage from her beloved clinging to her side at the moment.

Then up this one fellow came to her, a rather stout man, full beard and hair oiled and greasy, as much as the rancid smile he presented the two females.  As if instinct, Camille cowered behind Rebecca upon sight of him, Rebecca answering his displeasing presence with a mere crinkle of her nose and a scowl.  Men, they were always after one thing and one thing alone, the same with that wretched creature who not only defiled the woman by turning her into a vampire, but going as far as to even defile everything about her.  Oh yes, those scars did remain, deep and calloused, and damned be the vampire if she was going to let another bastard get his grubby paws around her.  First off, she couldn't understand a single word he was saying to her in his drunken stupor, as evidently he reeked of alcohol and sleazy women.  Twas as if the neanderthal was babbling some incoherent tongue of the ancients, and truth be told, Rebecca knew her dead languages.  But even she couldn't discern what this idiot was rambling on about, which only caused her scowl to harden towards him.

Again, it was a good thing she was a bit older and more refined now, as a younger, feistier Rebecca would have certainly grasped his wagging tongue, riddled with lecherous filth, and ripped it from his mouth in front of all to see the gory spectacle.  Yet, such violent intentions, even justified under these harsh pretenses, she had to subdue for the moment.  To make a scene wouldn't just be the death of her, though she and her beloved could handle a couple of vicious mortal thugs, but more or less compromise the mission, revealing herself as Nosferatu, and an agent of the UHC.  Which reminded her...this was the place Katya said someone was seeking out UHC.  Once that thought hit her mind, it went into vigilant mode instantly.  [color=ed1c24]~"Hmph.  You couldn't handle this even if you wanted to, big boy."~[/color] Her tone was rather seductive, and yet intentionally condescending, a snub she gave with an insolent smirk, basically her subtle way of telling this mindless, drooling dipshit to piss off.

The girl followed behind her as she sauntered up to the bar, her hips, the curves and definition of a Hellenistic goddess, swaying ever so temptingly.  She hated men, but did she love to tease them.

[color=ed1c24]~"A vodka and tonic on the rocks."~[/color]  She whispered to the bartender, an even shadier fellow was he than the rest of his natural patrons.  As he prepared her poison of choice, the woman leaned against the bar, one hand resting on her cheek, her face a languid expression of boredom, however, her eyes were ever watchful, making certain no one in this place dared to pull something crass on her and her sweet.  Speaking of which, the girl sat beside her, shivering a tad.  It was a bit drafty, yes, but it wasn't really the cold air getting to Camille....

...It was the man standing behind her and Rebecca.