Calazar’s Wednesday night odd encounter(Obadiah)

January 22, 2026

Date: 2026-01-21 23:16

(Calazar’s Wednesday night odd encounter(Obadiah):Obadiah)

[Wed Jan 21 2026]

On Market Street/span

It is night, about 31F(0C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It’s snowing. The mist is heaviest At Mayflower and Washington/span
There is a waxing crescent moon.

Calazar is wandering the street when a busker hands him a flyer for Madam MacGuffin’s 100/ Accurate Old Time fortune telling service in Fairefield. The child that hands off the flyer disappears into the snow hail storm that is brewing but the address is near and there is a 100/ warrantee that the predictions will come true.

Perhaps it is the fact that it is both snowing and hailing or imminently about to be that Calazar opts to take refugee in the 100/ accurate fortune tellers abode. Using the flyer and the ability to supernaturally leap about like Batman, he makes his way rather quickly to the front of the designated location with only a brief consideration spared for the location and exterior.

Once inside, a young woman with chestnut hair and a Pixar mom-body approaches Calazar and extends a hand greeting him. “Good evening sir! Are you here to see Madam MacGuffin?” She motions to the waiting chairs and says, “She is with a client at the moment, but I think she is just finishing up. Her predictions are very accurate, you know.”

The unbreathing, unblinking, undead looks at the pixer mom-body and despite a Spanish heritage even the most exaggerated of hips do not stir a heartbeat or a flush to his ashy compelxion. “Indeed.” is all he says with a gregarious and rhythmic spanish accent and an arrogant smirk as Calazar tucks his hands behind his back. Those green eyes watch the chestnut haired woman’s reaction when she finally notices the mortal wound disfiguring his throat with thick scarring.

The young woman notices the scar and does a double take before disappearing behind the curtain for a moment. When she reappears she is ushering out a tall, blond man in a perfectly pressed purple waistcoat and matching slacks over a mustard yellow shirt. He is all grins and very clearly happy with whatever the famed Madam MacGuffin showed him.

When the himbo is out the door, an older woman, perhaps 45, glides her way out of the curtain and beckons Calazar with long bony fingers. “Come… See what your future holds,” she croaks in a voice not dissimilar to a drowning victims.

“How far into the future?” Calazar inquires while moving to follow the older woman with bony fingers at 45. There is an assessive look with those green eyes as if considering a cut of beef or a head of lettuce trying to deduce the freshness of the produce. Following along his hands still behind his back there is a brief look aside to the pixar mom whereing the psychic vampire extends his senses with telempathy to make her feel flustered butterflies. Before disappearing with the Madam.

Pixar Mom blushes furiously as she looks back at Calazar, licking her lips then quickly pulling the curtain closed to avoid looking at him further and succumbing to whatever thoughts may have been implanted there.

“How far do you want to see? Do you have any specific questions Madam MacGuffin can answer? Money? Wealth? Power? Love perhaps.” She sits down at a small round table, a cushioned chair available directly across from her, presumably for the paying customer. On the table is a maroon velvet table cloth, a large lump under a blue velvet cloth, and a small mirror next to a baggie of white powder and a Blockbuster Membership card.

Calazar selects the cushioned chair settling down with the eerie movement of someon that is marionetted and has no twitch nor subtle movements of the living. Sitting statuesque the vampire decides, “I am interested in this year. Before the end of the year what fate awaits me? Will I return to my home, take my throne, will I be trapped in New Haven, will I regenerate my wound?” he reaches up and taps at his throat denoting the disfiguring and guresome mortal wound.

“Ah yes yes, let me just get my crystal ball ready,” the Madam says as she pulls off the cloth to reveal an ordinary crystal ball. “And get some candles to illuminate the future.” One black candle and one white candle are lit next to the crystal ball. “Now… speak your question, one at a time, into the ball. Each question is fifty dollars, cash or credit.”

While Calazar watches, the very perceptive vampire will notice that once she gives her instruction, her attention turns to the mirror. She stares at it, watching carefully as the question in spoken.

It is exceedingly dangerous to look at Calazar’s reflection in any mirrors or videos so hopefully the Madam is not doing that. “Indeed. Will I return to my home in Brazil before the end of the year? If I do will I regain my throne?” he starts off with two questions that seeming inexorcably linked in his mind.

She isn’t looking at him, she is looking at the mirror itself. It is an old thing, surrounded in filigree. After a moment she tips out some powder on the thing, cuts a line, and snorts it. She tilts her head back and sighs as her eyes dilate then drop back down to settle on Calazar. “Yes yes I can see I can seeee…. you will return to your throne, though you will find the halls painted red, surrounded by the faces of men who long thought you dead. You will not return, but one line you. Changed! You will return but you will no longer be you. A stranger will sit on your throne.”

“Indeed.” Calazar says with some small hint of amusement as the Madam takes a bump and provides the vagueries of a prediction that could mean anything and be anything he wants it to be. “Will I regenerate my wound, will that make me the stranger to sit on my throne?” he leads into the next question, at 50 dollars cash or credit a pop one must make use of just ironclad 100/ assurances.

The madam looks down at the mirror again and stares before rolling her shoulder with a sickening crack and then looking up to answer the question. “In one future yes, but you will have to sacrifice a virgin on an altar of obsidian. Rare things in New Haven.” Whether she means virgins or obsidian altars, she doesn’t specify.

“Fortunately I have found a mystical virgin who renews such things.” Calazar says with a gregarious and supremely confident spanish accent. “And I had already planned to sacrifice her, though not on obsidian. I suppose it would not hurt.” and now his unblinking gaze considers the madam coolly. “Will anything trap me in new haven?”

“Your Pride,” the woman says consulting the mirror once move, a wet sound coming from under the table like a fish hitting the floor. “And a brunette with a tramp stamp and daddy issues.” Each question causes her eyes to get more sunken along with what ever other changes are happening whenever she looks into the mirror.

Calazar looks away from the sunken eyed Madam towards the table and then slides back in his seat slowly to look beneath the table while inquiring, “I believe that is all unless you have some future I must know to be successful.” and then looks back up to the fortune teller.

shakes her head slowly. “Unless you have another question, no, we are done. Pay Brenda one fifty on your way out. No Amex please.” She quickly covers the crystal ball and the mirror so he doesn’t have a chance to peer into it either

Calazar rises up from the chair and brushes off the front of his waistcoat before tucking his hands behind his back. “You have been very helpful.” he says with the kind of politeness that covers up all sorts of lies in genteel company. Stepping out of the room he looks for the pixar-mom likely named Brenda. “Oh Brenda.” he calls in his gregarious and dashing accent!

Pixar-mom, apparently named Brenda, reappears and ushers Calazar out and to the side where she whips out her Toast portable Point of Sale machine and punches in three questions and flips it around at the screen that allows for the addition of a tip. “Was it everything you had hoped for sir?”

Calazar considers the Pixar-mom and reaches out once more with glowing green eyes and gives her the emotional butterflies. He pulls out a foreign debit card and taps it to the screen while commenting to Brenda, “It was positive. Though I wonder how many sessions end with questions about whether you will give them your number?”

“I, uh,” Brenda stammers before looking down at the device and muttering, “Is an emailed receipt ok? Or I can text it to you or print one out if you would prefer.” She looks around, nervous as the butterflies upset her tummy

“My name is…” Calazar provides his Windermere substitute teacher email because .edu emails are inherently sexy. “I look forward to your message.” he says presumptively.

Brenda enters the email and hits send, the card is charged and then she grabs a business card for Madam MacGuffin and writes down her number on the back, sliding it over to the malformed vampire just as Obadiah walks in and blinks. “Oh. Hi Calazar. Didn’t expect to see you here.” He looks around and then adds, “I can go if she is here…”

Calazar accepts the pixar-mom’s number for when he wants to get the vampire version of diabetes from snacking on that cake then turns to Obadiah. “Ah Obadiah, are you a regular?” he asks while adjusting his waistcoat and more or less completely ignoring Brenda as someone important is now here.

“Ah no, first time,” Obadiah says as his eyes drift over to Calazar’s snacc then back to Calazar. “I like playing fuck around with the stage musicians and it’s somehow snowing and hailing at the same time so I thought I would have myself a spot of fun before I head home. I heard that we are… uninvited from Chicago.”

“Indeed. But I will reach out before the Twilight Bureau brings the payments so you can both pickup your cut for the first half.” Calazar explains in his gregarious way. “I extended the invitation to Mercy and she selected Teagan, so obviously if an issue arises I will keep my first choice.”

Obadiah nods his head slowly and then heads towards the back room, content to have his perfectly lore following shenanigans with the woman slowly trading away her humanity to be a passable fortune teller.
someone Brenda has moved on to other tasks but she occasionally catches Calazar’s eyes as she does a lot of dusting of bottom shelves and picking up pens off the floor that she clumsily drops

Brenda has moved on to other tasks but she occasionally catches Calazar’s eyes as she does a lot of dusting of bottom shelves and picking up pens off the floor that she clumsily drops