Malek Ackerman
You're my water. You're my wine.
There was a comfortable silence that wrapped Malek in a cool embrace as he stands just outside his current favorite bar; The VooDoo Room. A coy smile tugs at the corner of his lips, hidden in the bush of his facial hair. Running a hand through his mess of wavy hair he pushes his way in, the room had a relaxed atmosphere to it and though there were several patrons in the bar, the sun had only just set. Rolling his shoulders in anticipation at the liquor lining the wall, he waltzes closer to the bar before plopping himself down suddenly.
Waving down the bartender in an excited manner, his steely eyes brighten in excitement as the man moves towards Malek in an uncomfortable stance. Standing a little farther away than necessary, the vampire takes no notice as he sways in his seat ordering the best whisky on the rocks. Grinning childishly at the bartender, the man scuttles away quickly before returning with the whisky. Holding a hand up at the stranger Malek furrows his brow and looks up at him through his bushy brows, "What's this my good man?" his booming voice is much too loud in the much too quiet room.
Several customers turn their heads to eye the commotion at the bar, seeing nothing juicy to gossip about, the eventually return to their own conversation. The bartender now looking rather uncomfortable, he meekly asks what he can help Malek with. Releasing a booming chuckle, he simply swigs the whisky in one gulp and slides the glass back to the stranger. "Perhaps a bottle?" he suggests a bit more quietly as he gestures towards the empty glass.
Scurrying away to retrieve the bottle, Malek grins at him broadly, "Much obliged, sir!" He laughs again before working away on the bottle. He could picture his night clearly, ending in another drunken night, waking up in his own bed and starting over again. Such an exciting life he lived!
The ancient vampire had very little to look forward to, in means of a life. He had an agreement with the council and they saw him of little threat. He was a simple drunkard who paid his dues and harassed men and women who couldn't see through his powers and ended in bed with him. Mal still wasn't sure why he even ended up in Sacro, perhaps it was because the super-naturals were so welcome into the light? Perhaps it was the good alcohol that had him returning to this bar every night? Or perhaps it was he simply was weary of traveling?
The questions went on and on and for now, the ancient was content to drink lonesome at the bar.
You're my whiskey. From time to time.