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Janus Dolion, 1920s

The central Speakeasy is where anyone was in 1920, everyone in fact. People expected such an important man to show to events.

[mentions of police, mentions of killing/being killed, time-period typical homophobia, explicit character death]

"Come now doll, not everyone is into the giggle juice. I'd prefer to stay sober." 

Janus Dolion. Rumored mobster, though the male was simply not a fan of such large crowds. Especially when they got hands on booze. The man held so much power as he walked, and simply collecting mail could have others stare in fear. 

"You want a bit?" The woman asked, eyes narrowing. The head server, and only one allowed to talk to the house master like such. "Of course you should stay sober, a glass and any boozehound could see through those lies of yours. You're lucky I know to keep my mouth shut." Dolion nodded, using the head of his cane to point to a small door in his study. "And of the worst. You know nothing about the dreads to carry a torch, to be in such an illegal position. Worse than those.. ah, mobsters, were they? I don't keep up with the cops." The server emerged from the door with a simple glass of wine, nodding in confirmation. "Cheese it - anyone else listening, and you're going to the big house. Or worse, you're killed on the spot." She reprimanded.

Janus was never a fan of people telling him what to do, whether it was valuable advice or not.

And a lightweight such as himself? A *criminal* such as himself? He should have never been at the most popular speakeasy, downing his glass as if without it his world would end, chatting with a particularly handsome man. Finding himself out of a sober consciousness and grabbing at that man's collar, should have never happened. Yet it did. And as soon as he was leaning close, the only thing he heard was his own screams, glass being broken, some others panicking, and blood rushing. 

"No, of course not in that order, hun.  I was, you could assume, dying - so obviously I'm not the best person to ask for my death story." Janus recalled, voice light despite the heavy conversation. After years of staying quiet in isolation, he had met Virgil in the 2000s. The male was alike a cold, sweet glass of lemonade after being given so many lemons, genuinely curious in his life before and helping the presence to learn about the things he had missed. After all, staying in hiding since his death made it hard to know about anything going on during the times. "Though, with my stature and your electronic knowledge, I'm sure you can... 'look it up'." he murmured, rounding Virgil. The sweet, anxious male had been curious about all aspects of his life, and this week it seemed to be his death that he wanted to know about.

Virgil almost dropped his phone, which he had been using to take notes, swearing as he did so and nodding. "Of course, I just thought to ask you first- The way you tell your stories.. It's so cool, man, I swear. Your slang is cool too." He said as he typed in the presence's name into a search bar, multiple articles showing up moments later. Janus watched over his shoulder curiously, though couldn't help but feel pride at the compliments. "So, you like the slang, how I tell my story, or do you just like hearing my voice?" He teased, not missing the blush that rose to the male's cheeks. Of course, this was a time that he wouldn't do the dance for being homosexual. Many a person happened to be, and Janus was near overjoyed at being given knowledge that Virgil was as well, he didn't have to worry about carrying a touch anymore either. Though, that didn't keep him from being not-so blunt with his feelings, just lowering himself to tease the other man and have pride that he was the one making him blush. 

"Again I ask, do you have any booze? Your area is terribly dry." Dolion questioned as he went away, leaving Virgil to read about his death. He didn't care for it much. He experienced it, after all. "In the cabinet, and again, I don't understand how you even consume it. So I'm not exactly hiding it from you." He supplied helpfully, intrigued by the odd death. He didn't mind Janus needing to eat and drink as he did, only confused on why. Neither knew the answer. "Hey, says here you enjoyed games, cops found plenty in your house." Virgil suddenly spoke up, Janus coming back over with a bottle of wine. "I did. Only enjoyable thing I could do often, with that society." He muttered, rolling his eyes at the mention of 'society'. "Why do you bring it up?"

"Want to head to an arcade with me? Plenty of games there, and it's a new environment."