When the chair broke as chairs tended to break when smashed, tossing the remnants to the ground, Brock raised and eyebrow and felt like a fool.  He was about to own being duped, though, when the pieces started move.  He'd even try to stop one, crouching to grab at it, but all he got was a nicked palm for his trouble.  When it was back together, Brock got his drink, sat on it.  Yep, it was a chair.  It held his weight as one might expect a chair to do.  He finished his bourbon in one gulp, and despite having previously decided it was to be his last - he was a big man and a hard drinker, but he didn't normally get shitfaced in public - he got up and poured himself another.<br/><br/>He said, generally, to the people assembled, "So, this 'not human' thing.  You all look pretty human." Though, as a group, far, far more attractive than the average - was that normal, too?  Were supernatural creatures better looking than, what was the word, normal people?  "If not that, what?  The guy with red eyes?  Vampire?  It feels cliched, but LARPers usually are."<br/><br/>The rest were harder reads and Brock's knowledge of the supernatural was all pop culture - movies, comic books, and D&D.  It floated through his head: What's really human?  Was it something like DNA?  Vampires would have human DNA, though.  Probably nothing as simple as that, then.  Probably some sort of connection with - part of his mind still blanched when thinking the word - magic.<br/><br/>He told himself to think like a cop.  Why would a person - a wizard, maybe? - make a joint like this?  Same reason gay people had their own bars, he reasoned.  A place to feel safe with one's kind.  He didn't feel like their kind, but it stood to reason if he was here at all there was some shared connection.  Or maybe just luck on his part.  Stupid luck was responsible for more than most people wanted to admit, looking for reasons where there weren't any.<br/><br/>Then... all that Catholic shit came to the surface.  Demons and sin.  He grimaced, shoved those thoughts aside because they were stupid.  He was already damned.  The way he lived his life?  What would a little witchery and demons hurt?  You can't be damned twice.<br/>He mostly directed his next question to Chance, though he would listen to anyone's answer, "Okay, magic, not human, all that.  Why am I here?  I'm just a Catholic boy from the East Side."<br/><br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="1438" data-username="@..." data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/1438/">@...</a>well, everyone!