In a dark alley of Boston, completely obscured from those who did not know it was there, was a set of stairs leading to a black door. No sign indicated what was beyond the door, but the faint sound of music could be heard from the outside when the door was open. Inside was a small dive bar filled with monsters.
The bar stretched almost the entire length of the room with bar stools stationed at even intervals. Several tables and booths were available to sit with enough space in the center of the bar for dancing and mingling. Along the wood-paneled walls were various runes and insignias which, if anyone asked, were there for the protection of the patrons. Wall decorations ranged from photographs of various ages to canvas portraits beautifully painted. Several aged and faded tapestries lined the walls that had been donated to the bar and showed insignia from different kingdoms throughout the years. Why they were here and not in a museum was a mystery no one intended to solve.
The patrons ranged from pixies mingling while floating in the corner to a half-giant who had settled in the corner by the bar with the largest mug the bar owned. Humanoids filled the seats by the bar and many of the tables. Many of them with brightly colored drinks, some with carbonated bubbles which floated downward or had dry smoke pouring over the rim of the glass. Waitresses fluttered around, taking drink orders and talking to the regular patrons.
Behind the bar, the bartenders were wearing robes to keep the contents of cauldrons from splashing on their clothes. Along with the standard array of liquor bottles, the shelves behind the bar were stocked with fogged jars marked with labels reading various potion ingredients which would put off a normal crowd.
A young woman, looking to be no other than her mid-twenties, was holding a clipboard behind the bar. The feather pen was moving across the order form independently. She scanned the shelves and quietly whispered instructions to the pen which it followed. She gestured toward the pen and it snapped back to her hand. She signed the bottom of the form herself, removed the paper from the clipboard, and set the board aside. She turned and looked along the line of cauldrons, ensuring there was still enough to last a while. Nodding her approval, she turned to a bartender.
"Lin, I'll be downstairs if you need me," She said to the man ladling a lavender potion into a flask.
He turned to her; one of his three eyes winked. "I'll keep an eye out, Cordelia,"
Cordelia shook her head and headed through a door behind the bar. A set of stairs led her down to a basement which acted as a storeroom. Boxes of liquor were stacked to the right of the entrance, potion ingredients to the left. Cordelia did a cursory glance around the room before setting the order form aflame. As the form burned, cases appeared out of the ether, perfectly stacking themselves where they needed to be.
Cordelia made her way to the back of the room where a single, full-length mirror hung on the wall. She took a deep breath before placing her hand on the mirror. The cool glass dissolved into a gel-like consistency. Cordelia pushed her way through the gel and into her lounge.
The circular room was well lit by a chandelier dangling from nothing above her head. A fireplace sat on the opposite side of the room, a smokeless fire roaring with eternal blue flames. Two lounge chairs sat on either side of a low table. Bookshelves were built into the walls and extended what appeared to be miles above her head. Several feather dusters were floating about, constantly ensuring that dust never settled on the books out of Cordelia's reach.
Cordelia smirked and looked up. "You know, I can reach them much easier." She said to the man standing on the singular ladder that moved on a rail around the room. He was perusing a shelf of old books about three stories up. He grabbed a leather-bound book and deftly leaped from the ladder.
Anyone other than Cordelia would have been alarmed, but she knew Elliot Carson far too well for that.
Elliot landed deftly at the base of the ladder, keeping a tight grip on the book. He looked at Cordelia with a mischievous grin on his face and a coy smile. "Where's the fun in that?"
"Elliot Carson, you have looked better," Cordelia said, noting the dark shadows under his eyes, the fading color of his coat he had owned for decades. His face was pale and unshaven, his hair a matted mess.
"Delia," he said softly. He set the book down on one of the chairs and stepped toward her. He held his arms open. "You have seen me worse."
Cordelia accepted the hug, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders pulling her into his torso. The feeling brought back memories stretching back centuries. "That I have." She was enjoying the moment until she felt her old friend instinctively inching closer to her neck. Her hand shot to her wand, strapped to her calf. With a flick of her wrist, Elliot was shot backward and pinned to one of the bookshelves by an invisible force.
"You must be truly desperate to be going for my neck, Elliot Carson," Cordelia was no longer smiling. Suddenly, his charm wore off. She was left with her other memories of the man she had embraced. She held her wand in a white-knuckled fist as she glared at her vampiric friend.
Elliot struggled against the magical force that had him pinned. "There was once a time where you would give it willingly."
Cordelia snapped her wand arm up. A bolt of silver light shot out and hit Elliot in the chest, making him wince in pain. "Because it seems you have forgotten, let me remind you. The time you speak of was well over two hundred years ago, my old friend."
"Has it been that long?" Elliot said through the pain.
Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "Since you left me? Yes."
"I had a case."
"You got bored," She sneered, cutting him off. "I wasn't good enough for Elliot Carson, detective extraordinaire! You needed the excitement."
"That's not true," He started.
Cordelia shot another bolt at him. A low growl emitted from the base of Elliot's throat. "It's not true? That's why you ran off to Europe for half a century? That's why you only come back here when you need an easy fix or information?"
Elliot said nothing, refusing to look at her.
"You need blood," Cordelia said, taking a couple of steps toward him. "Obviously, you need information as well. You have been avoiding the entirety of New England unless you have a case."
"Are you going to help me?" Elliot asked, looking at Cordelia.
Cordelia pursed her lips. "What's the case?"
"Potential murder, but no bodies." Elliot grunted.
"Sorry, no word on necromancers in the area," Cordelia said. "No body snatchers either. Can't help you."
"What about werewolves?" Elliot snapped.
Cordelia looked at him. "In Salem?"
Elliot nodded. "Again."
Cordelia tapped her wand against her leg, looking away from Elliot. After a moment, she waved her wand again, causing Elliot to crash to the floor.
"I'll get you a drink," Cordelia said, "O negative?"