NICO DIOS.

The smell was new. The potions Ariel had been (unknowingly) fed for the majority of her life had dulled it. Now, it was on full display. Erik claimed to like the smell of salt, but Ariel figured he was just being nice. She opened and closed her mouth, unable to admit why she came. Just the thought of feeding turned her stomach, but she had debated it. "I'm looking for someone," she finally lied. "A siren who hangs around here drinking. Blue is her name."

"Blue. Blue, Blue, Blue..." Nico pondered for awhile, intentionally pretending like he was racking his brain for the name as he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. "She isn't blonde, is she? Also smells like fish?"

"Vodka soda?" That was what Vlad drank. Anya herself had never really been one to imbibe. As a rule of thumb, she'd always been too broke to even step foot into a bar once she turned of age. She made it by on blood without any fun luxuries. Of course, that would all change if she accepted her grandmother's wealth. "I didn't realize you took drink orders. You're Nico Dios. I figured you'd be too important for something like that."

"A classic." Nico mused as he tried to keep a friendly smile, but he just couldn't shake the strange feeling he had as they continued to speak. He moved to a glass and started to fill it with ice as she continued to speak, and he smirked gently at her words. "You're right, I am important. As the owner, I like to have my hands in a little bit of everything, including bartending."

"That's right. You're the big, bad Nico Dios." He might have scared other vampires, but Shock had grown up with Otis. The boogeyman smiled at her and told her he was proud, like that meant anything. He didn't know how his young wards really felt about him. He was just means to an end. "Thank goodness you're both so trustworthy and good at sticking to agreements."

"You know, you're saying that like it's an insult, but I'll take it as a compliment." Nico quipped back with a flash of a smile, but it instantly faded again as Shock went on about Otis. The idea of Otis being upset with him, or changing his mind for some reason about their mutual understanding, it didn't sit well with Nico. "What do you really want? Because I know it isn't to sit out here and go back and forth with me. I've got a club to run."

Meg had never minded her name. It was fine as far as names went. When it was Nico's mouth, however, she almost hated it. She hated how his tongue rolled over the syllables and drew out the three simple letters. It felt dirty. "Better than you'd like him to be. What can I say, Nico? The guy's got eyes but he's also got integrity." It was the same answer she'd been giving him, and Meg knew it wouldn't be acceptable for much longer.

Nico's hand tightened around Meg's shoulder as she answered, and his jaw clenched slightly as annoyance prickled underneath his skin. He quickly let go of her, pulling his hand back to his side as if she'd just burned him as he narrowed his eyes. "Then you're not trying hard enough." He hissed the words out with frustration as he turned around and started pacing, his eyebrows furrowed. "I need more progress on this, Meg. You need more progress if you still expect me to hold up my end of this deal."

"You're the one with the terrible undead smell." All vampires smelled the same. Under the metallic scent of blood, there was something unnatural. It always made Marie wrinkle her nose in disgust when she got a particularly strong whiff of it. "And I'm not stinking up your bartop." She normally smelled of Chanel. Right now? Drugstore perfume. It was the best she could do on a budget. "Perhaps you should get your nose checked."

Nico just smiled at that, finding the banter more amusing than anything. He wasn't lying, Tartarus didn't discriminate. As far as he was concerned, business was business. Even if he didn't particularly like werewolves, he was cordial, just like he was with everyone until they made their way to his bad side. "I can't smell much of anything through the perfume you're wearing. What is that... Eu de wet dog?"

"I don't think I'd ever go as far as to call it a good thing." Marian shot back. "You can be who you want to be. I obviously can't change that. I can, however, step in when you get out of line. Do my job." It was all she had outside of her mother at this point. "We haven't used pitchforks in a long time, Nico. Your immortality is showing."

"Oh, I never said that." Nico replied with a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows and shrugged at the woman. "Why should you get to dictate what's considered out of line?" He imitated her voice a little at the end, making sure to make it extra whiney as he rolled his eyes. "Pitchforks, crossbows, they're all the same thing. They serve the same purpose, don't they?"

"Boy troubles. Girl troubles. I'm apparently open to conflicts of all kinds." Eira's own drink had been abandoned up until that point, but she reluctantly picked it up and swallowed the entirety of the glass in one burning swallow. Her blood intake was low as she could possibly maintain it without starting to feel like she was going to shrivel away. Hunger had long been a friend that gnawed at her insides. The only positive was that it made the effects of the alcohol all the more prominent. "I could always maim myself or something, but I'm too attached to it at this point." Eira wasn't smart or cunning or even particularly resourceful. She was pretty. That was what she had, and she clung to it as pathetic as it was.

"Wow, you've really got a double whammy there, then." Nico mused playfully as he eyed the vampire in front of him, taking note of her even paler than usual skin and the dark circles under her eyes. "It's kind of annoying, you know. You're beautiful even while you're starving." Then, he paused. "We do serve blood if you're looking to fix that."

In another life, Anya would have grown up in the world of politics. The Romanov Empire had burned bright — too bright — and their policies were long extinguished and banished from the mind of the town's vampires. Still, Nico would have known Alexander. He would have known Anya's family and the world they had once existed in. Anya highly doubted he would recognize her at this point. Over a decade had gone by since the fall of the Romanov's and Anya wore those years on her face. "A drink?" She paused. "A drink. Yes. I'll take one if it's cheap. I doubt it'll hurt anything."

"That's more like it." Nico tried to flash a smile at the vampire, but he had a strange feeling that he couldn't shake. She looked... familiar. And he didn't like that he couldn't place her face. That was never a problem for him. "So, what'll you have?"

"I'm a siren." It was still weird to vocalize the truth after years of believing otherwise. A siren, not a caster. She knew why her father had lied, but it was a tough pill to swallow. "I can't judge about feeding. I mean, I shouldn't. It's complicated."

"I know." Nico responded impatiently as he rolled his eyes and looked at the girl up and down. "I can smell it all over you. Though, I am curious.." Pausing, he took a step forward and raised an eyebrow. "Why are you lingering around here? My workers can be a teensy bit territorial."

"If you like that, you've got to try the Death in the Afternoon. It's one of our signatures." Pausing, Nico got to work grabbing his shaker and some bottles as he smirked up at her. "It's got tequila in it too. This one'll be on the house."

No, no he didn't. And Nico realized fairly quickly that even if he didn't know the kid, he already didn't like him. And it was not a good thing to be on Nico's shit list. "I'm afraid that might be a little difficult. I'm actually very involved in our community. Volunteer work, bake sales, the whole nine."

"Isn't it a little past your bedtime?" The street was quiet and empty save for the two who stood on the dark pavement. "You know what they say about all the things that go bump in the night."

"I don't have a bedtime." Nico quipped back, his eyes rolling with annoyance as he took a step closer to the younger girl. "Otis and I have an agreement. We coexist." And if one of his little minions was loitering around his club, it couldn't mean anything good.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but I'm not your girl. Nico's a big boy. If you need to talk to him, you know where to find him."

"Oh, Meg--" Nico paced around behind her until he closed the distance between them and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Meg, Meg, Meg... But you haven't even told me how our favorite Wonder Boy is doing."

"You're just being mean. Not every werewolf smells like a wet dog. Some of us have standards."

"We don't discriminate here at Tartarus. Even if you are stinking up my bartop."

"I didn't choose to be a hunter for fun. We exist for a reason. Do you really think supernaturals should run around unchecked?"

"You people just love to use the word supernaturals like it's a bad thing. We are who we are. No amount of pitchforks and torches are gonna change that, sweetheart."

"You can call me vain if you want, but my life would be so much easier if I was ugly."

"Boy troubles?" Nico mused with a sarcastic smile as he threw back his drink and shrugged. "It's too bad you're stuck with your pretty face for all of eternity."

"I may be related to Mayor Faye, but that doesn't mean we're close. If you want something, you'd have better luck going directly to her. Sorry."

"Oh, I don't need anything from the Mayor." Nico flashed the blonde a grin as he shook his head. "Just tell her Nico said hello."