[@Wraithblade6]
	Bug quickly takes off the bloodied apron he was wearing, revealing a blank, light grey scrub. "Hello Mtihias. Sorry you had to see that...Yes, nasty fellow. Liked to drain his foes of their life energy as a way to feed himself...if I was him, I would of just taken up cooking. It must of tasted better than un-refined life force.." Bug says, trying to make slight humor from the situation...

Never one of his strong suits.

	Drac sighs, as he reaches into a coat pocket, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and puts one into his mouth. 
"Do I even need to berate you on how bad those things are for you?" Bug starts, before a single retort from Drac shuts him up.
	"Son, I'm already dead."
"..Right. Sorry, I keep forgetting about that at points." Bug says, sorta chuckling a bit at how silly he must of seemed. Drac takes a rather long drag, before letting the smoke leak from his mouth, slowly. The slight glow of the lit cigarette cast a rather..creepy light into Drac's face, making Mithias feel rather uncomfortable, as if he saw it somewhere else before..he could almost place hi-
	Oh shit, it reminded him of that time Stine was in his face, with a lit cigarette.
"Mithias, do you need to speak to me about anything? Do you need medical advice, or the lot?" Bug asks, seeming to want to divert the flow of conversation.