a certified master cocksman (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
haemosexual) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
diademlogs2026-02-09 03:56 pm
haemosexual) wrote in diademlogs2026-02-09 03:56 pm
[open] on the run
Who: Laszlo Jackie Daytona and OPEN
Where: Kolliery
When: Late January through mid-February
What: Just a regular human bartender. I will match style!
Warnings: Murder, blood, standard vampire fare
Where: Kolliery
When: Late January through mid-February
What: Just a regular human bartender. I will match style!
Warnings: Murder, blood, standard vampire fare
𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔲𝔫
Laszlo Cravensworth—gentleman scientist, musical virtuoso, and serial killer—has completely fucked it.
Like all fluxdrifts, he entered the Diadem with debt. Unlike most fluxdrifts, Laszlo has never worked a day in his life and wasn't about to start at the ripe age of three hundred thirteen. And so, at the six month mark, when all debts are to be repaid to Yom Crook, Laszlo began to receive visitors. Debt collectors, bounty hunters, loan sharks—whatever the term, they all sought Laszlo for the same reason: to render unto Yom Crook the things that are Yom Crook's.
It was easy to avoid them, for the most part, and those he couldn't avoid, Laszlo simply hypnotized. He would have liked to murder the lot of them, but that would only make things worse: a defaulted payment is one thing, but an insolvent murderer would garner much unwanted attention. Unfortunately, shit happens, and so, shortly after the Rail's return to Panorama from Acreage, Laszlo fled in the opposite direction.
𝔨𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔯𝔶
The furthest Laszlo can get from the extremely accidental murder that wasn't even his fault, short of walking into the sea and living the rest of his unlife at the bottom of the ocean with water in his lungs, is Kolliery. This is his logic, anyway, though logic may not be his strongest suit right now, considering he has made the trek in his very recognizable, very repossessable automobile—an old-fashioned ambulance, which, whilst presumably once white, has spent the past six months mowing down pedestrians and smashing into things in equal turns and is now dented and splattered with oxidized, dark red. But, you know, he's left his phone behind in Panorama, so at least the people who care about him have no way whatsoever to contact him. He at least thought about that part.
Once in Kolliery, Laszlo at least has the sense to stash his automobile in the saloon's adjacent storage room, hidden under a tarp. He can be found there during the day, sleeping in the front seat in the darkness; he tries to hypnotize anyone who seems suspicious around the area, but there are probably a few locals spreading rumors about it, for anyone interested in poking around.
Otherwise, at night, Laszlo can primarily be found at the local saloon, Blue Texas, where he has somehow gotten a job as a bartender despite very obviously not knowing what the fuck he's doing behind the bar. Of course, he will deny he's Laszlo if anyone recognizes him: he is simple newcomer Jackie Daytona, who looks exactly like Laszlo except for the toothpick in his mouth. Your confusion is understandable, but not appreciated.
đť”𝔯𝔬𝔪đť”𝔱𝔰
Find Laszlo playing bartender at Blue Texas (night)
Run into Laszlo definitely not stalking someone in town (night)
Find Laszlo looking paranoid in the General Store (night)
Uncover the mystery of what's going on in the storage room (day)
Hit up Theresa for a custom (![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
bloodmoney, snowscenery on discord, or PM)
A secret other thing (???)
Like all fluxdrifts, he entered the Diadem with debt. Unlike most fluxdrifts, Laszlo has never worked a day in his life and wasn't about to start at the ripe age of three hundred thirteen. And so, at the six month mark, when all debts are to be repaid to Yom Crook, Laszlo began to receive visitors. Debt collectors, bounty hunters, loan sharks—whatever the term, they all sought Laszlo for the same reason: to render unto Yom Crook the things that are Yom Crook's.
It was easy to avoid them, for the most part, and those he couldn't avoid, Laszlo simply hypnotized. He would have liked to murder the lot of them, but that would only make things worse: a defaulted payment is one thing, but an insolvent murderer would garner much unwanted attention. Unfortunately, shit happens, and so, shortly after the Rail's return to Panorama from Acreage, Laszlo fled in the opposite direction.
𝔨𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔯𝔶
Once in Kolliery, Laszlo at least has the sense to stash his automobile in the saloon's adjacent storage room, hidden under a tarp. He can be found there during the day, sleeping in the front seat in the darkness; he tries to hypnotize anyone who seems suspicious around the area, but there are probably a few locals spreading rumors about it, for anyone interested in poking around.
Otherwise, at night, Laszlo can primarily be found at the local saloon, Blue Texas, where he has somehow gotten a job as a bartender despite very obviously not knowing what the fuck he's doing behind the bar. Of course, he will deny he's Laszlo if anyone recognizes him: he is simple newcomer Jackie Daytona, who looks exactly like Laszlo except for the toothpick in his mouth. Your confusion is understandable, but not appreciated.
đť”𝔯𝔬𝔪đť”𝔱𝔰
closed: colin & nandor (january)
blue texas
He actually is not on business here, and he wasn't hired by Yom Crook. He got a lead about plenty of jobs around these parts that could do with a merc for hire, and, ever the entrepreneur, he's made it to try and get a healthy stash of joolies in his pocket.
The fact that he makes eye contact with Jackie Daytona and immediately makes his way to the bar means nothing.
Probably.
Sat as he is, leaning onto the counter, he waits for the bartender.
no subject
Of course, he is also pretty certain that his ingenious disguise of sticking a toothpick in his mouth is foolproof, so it only takes him a moment to stop panicking before he swaggers over.
"What can I get for yew, stranger?" he says, in a very terrible approximation of a Texan accent.
no subject
"I'm lookin' for someone," he offers, instead. Obviously, Cloud is used to bartenders being the type of people that have all sorts of information about all sorts of things and people.
He leans a little further onto the counter.
"Many people come here?"
Maybe the toothpick in his mouth is a foolproof disguise.
no subject
He looks back at Cloud, leaning casually on the bar and flinging a bar towel over his shoulder. Surely he is looking for him, but he is so confident that he's willing to tempt fate.
"Some. Not many strangers, unless you count yourself. What's the name of the fella?"
no subject
Just two idiots pretending to be someone else.
"That's classified," said stubbornly. He glances at the bartender a while longer before his eyes flick up to the menu on the wall. "I'll have a pop."
Not because he's a loser or anything, but because he has promised to have a proper drink when the Seventh Heaven opens up again. He's not keen on breaking that promise to Barret and Tifa.
closed: lucina