( Matt or rather Dionysus is a merchant, mostly to sell his wares and scamper off, doesn't matter who his clients be vampire or human.)

What does a demi human and vampires have in common?

Nothing. Expect the fact one had a beating heart, and the other did not.  The demi human stretched slightly, groaning as the lower joints in his back popped into place, from remaining stiff for the past twenty or so minutes.  A mortal body was completely different from a fully adaptive deities body.  A human body you have to be very careful with each and every interaction and step.  The slightest mistake can result in a fatal incident.  Moving heavy barrels of last seasons wine from one part of the cellar to the other was somewhat a hassle and a pleasure.

Making wine was a craft and skill, many people could do it, but none could do it the same way, he did.  No one knew how to make that strong shit, the stuff that put some hairs on your chest kind of shit,  the shit that is rivaled against moonshine.  No matter how strong, time and time again he would advise mortals to thoroughly dilute it to the point that the strongness in the wine is dimmed down, and is basically a normal table wine.  Only the big boys, or people who are looking to get instant shitfaced are allowed to take it. 

Matt or rather Dionysus though he prefers Matt over that name, that name alone brings a sour taste to his mouth.  For some apparent reason it just does,  it was of course the normal thing for him to take some bottled samples of his prized wine, and give it to the vampires that dwell in the actual city,  while he lived a good four hours or so away from the leeches. 

There was something unnatural and disturbing about them, although again he would strongly disadvise mixing human blood, and wine.  But who was he to talk of such things, he was just simply a merchant selling his wares in order to make a small profit, depending on how large the profit is.

This would also account on if he should go to such lengths of going to these places armed, common sense would say yes, since he is human after all.  Carrying the crate of wine under one arm, and taking the bat that he prefered to use under such circumstances, it was better than using a blade, or a gun.  It still served its purpose as a blunt force weapon.  All it took was a good whack to knock someone out, and for him to make his merry way.

The location that he decided on was  a clearing, the forest in the backdrop, and him close enough to see the dim lights of the city, he under no circumstances dwelled anywhere near San Creado, he didn’t trust the false premise the city or place as he liked to call it. 

It brought haunting memories.  Memories that he would rather forget.

Ah right on time, well not exactly what he was expecting but of course it was the normal usual thing, not everyone wondered this far into the woods, since someone like him, prefered the wild outdoors than keeping within the glowly night rising city.  Matt watched who he would suspect to be a teen or young adult, he really wasn’t sure it was hard to tell with vampires, since their age is frozen at one point, they grew old in age but physical stances they were somewhat remarkably young.

He could clearly see the relief light in the younger male’s gaze after they were clearly scanning to make sure he was indeed human.  Any clear sign of him not been human should have raised a red flag, a large one at that, if his bat didn’t say something under the lines of  try me I dare you. I will not hesitate to take your head off with my bat. That was before the mischief arose to replace the relief, and he would be damned if not to realize that this kid might be leading him into a trap, despite him having a beating heart, which ran with living blood, better than the blood you could get wherever they were available.

Once they spoke, he nodded in a silent greeting to their greeting, as for the rest resulting in the wine drinking parties, he slightly smirked, in a half smile. “Then you really don’t get out much? There are nomadic nymphs and the occasional witch ritual .that requires wine.  Pity it’s not the full moon, or the blood moon,” he mused with a causal shrug of his shoulders, he was clearly at ease.

When they made an attempt to grab a hold of his arm, Matt moved his vacant arm away from the vampire’s grasp.  He didn’t exactly trust anyone to be lead in blind, again for the pretense of a trap. “ You will lead, and I will follow.  Try anything else, and you wouldn’t be having that pretty head of yours on your shoulders for any longer.” There was some kind of steel behind his words, some kind of grit that was hard to pass up, as a clear warning and it would be Alexander’s final warning of not trying to double crossing him.  Matt under no circumstances liked to be betrayed. 

Zachariah hadn't been a wine kind of guy. In fact, he didn't drink much at all - it usually only took one or two beers to get him drunk, and three to have him physically removed from the bar. Even if he could handle his liquor, he still would have stayed away from alcohol for the most part. Putting up with twelve-year olds at seven in the morning had been enough of a headache. He can't imagine the pain he would've been in had he ever shown up to work hungover. His husband, however, had been a chronic drinker. Zach had tried so many times to get him to get help, or go to some AA meeting, but his attempts never helped much. That further turned him away from the stuff.

Unlike Alexander and his guest, Zachariah is trying to get out of town. It's not as if he's packed up and decided to leave permanently, he just needs some fresh air for a minute or two. Though he doesn't exactly breathe, he feels like he's suffocating there. Zach doesn't want to leave his newly resurrected husband behind for too long, but he's sure Samsa will appreciate his absence. Not that he's unwanted, just that he reeks of death.

Speaking of - they can probably smell him coming. Zachariah hates to damage people's noses like that, but being a literal corpse, there's not much he can do about it. The most he can do is keep his distance and try to stand downwind. "Don't be so scared," he remarks. For some reason, this man seems wary of Alexander. Zachariah can't see why. Sure, they may have some sharp teeth, but other than that, they're about as intimidating as a small child. With the heavy bat Matt is wielding, he should have no problem knocking them out. "Actin' like you're being led to your doom." There's really not much to fear about either Alexander or San Creado. "What, you anemic?"

Nothing was too dissimilar between people with fangs and those with normal teeth, because sometimes people just had really pointy canines, but the rift formed when you compared divinity circulating casually through one individual and the slow blood flow in the other - drastically slow, counteracted only by the blood they consumed. If you hit a vampire, they would bruise, but however it worked the mark would be gone before the end of the day. Funny, the way biology was - did evolution really favour vampires, when they'd start smoking at the edges the moment they stood in sunlight?

But, really, outside differences didn't have to matter. They were all good, mature beings. They could talk around it.

"Back again," Rialto said, a shine to his eyes as he flashed Matt a diplomatic grin, fangs included, and hauled Alex back by their collar to stand by his side. "Hope the trip was smooth. The same as always?" Alex hadn't always been present during the dealings of the alcohol, generally busy all these other nights with throwing their werewolves sticks. Tonight was practically a show of their gargantuan self-restraint.

Nice of the merchant - well, for lack of a better word - to have repeatedly given them warnings about drinking responsibly all the times he sold to them, even though he had to realise that some people weren't worth giving warnings. Half the things that people did were done for the thrill, to hell with why. Likely, however, any wine merchant would be used to that kind of behaviour already. Rialto didn't stop a sly little raise of the lips at Zach's intercept, saying blandly in a terrible attempt at an introduction, "He might be. Cut the guy some slack, we're customers." San Creado just had an surrounding energy. Couldn't blame people for being wary all the while until they actually stepped into it.

Rialto himself preferred sobriety, if only because drinking did nothing for him, physically; he could appreciate business, and all the talent it needed to squeeze out bottles of a substance so strong it made one's blood brain barrier shake in its boots. With the knowledge that alcohol generally had no effect, the first times Matt had come by Rialto had tried a whole swig, and then had woken up about two days later still seeing triple. And in monochrome.

© MADI

This was quickly turning into a social gathering, and just about everything in Matt was tell him to book it back into the forest.  All he could do is nod, there was a lot of people.  He was bad with names, really bad with names.  But of course he was good at remembering faces and features, so there was that.  Nearly all of them were vampires save two, one he was pretty sure was elf or a witch or something under the lines of one, as for the other he was pretty sure he saw a movie could be described as a zombie.  But there was something off about this one, now he couldn’t put his finger on it.  But it was strange, since zombies were dead and completely ran on the desire to rip someone into shreds in the most painful and horror inflicting way possible.

The comment about him been anemic, that was hilarious.  He was pretty healthy, but he clearly just prefered to stay away from places with very large populations of human and non-humans.  Call him a recluse, but that was what he prefered and he was at peace that way.  If he was anemic,  the trek he would have made to the clearing would have clearly worn him out, it took effort to move about and do what he does.  So, yes he remains healthy and up to par with whatever life threw at him.

His wine was strong for a reason, really he had no idea of not making it weaker in alcohol concentration.  There are very people who take his word for it,  as he found out that water helps if you manage to blend it really well and still clearly warn anyone who consumes it to be careful, because he had seen way to many people turn red in the face and instantly curse the second they had a mere sip.  Well, people aren’t made has they were used to he assumed,  as for the festival for the moon, that sounded like fun, and it sounded way to familiar.  Way too familiar, on the situation arose he nodded.  “ I don't think I’ll be changing the recipe any time soon.  Still strong enough to remove varnish off a piece of carpentry.”

Wine had other purposes beside been used to drink and merriment, people in the past had used to knock people out quite literally, the stronger the better at least it distracted them from the main objecticing pain mostly ranging from their head.  Speaking of which, he should mention that he could offer his wine for any kind of healing purpose since it was strong enough to pass as some use.

The trek to this point, was smooth and he had walked this path way very easily and knew at least his part of the woods well enough.  There was a well worn path, and he left just before sunset, like two hours before hand since it took him all day to bottle and make sure nothing was going to awry with the bottles, because no one wanted a surprise in a bottle.