Ray's eyes widened visibly at the mention of having to do it once a week. While he felt he was particularly strong and was actually coming to terms with the fact he had liked the feeling, he wasn't too keen on the idea of having to be a human pin cushion once a week. Especially if it meant he'd have to recover after each time. That would make it hard to work. And box. But he calmed visibly when the vampire continued on and explained he didn't have to do it that often.

Nodding silently, he thought it over for a few moments. What would his brothers say? Think? He guessed it didn't really matter what either of those answers were. He was a grown man, after all. But.. it was a bit of a strange thing to do or to admit to.

"And you've clearly got enough control not to kill me," he said with a slight questioning tone to his voice. He'd just proved that he had the control but he didn't know if that was just a lucky thing. It clearly could have gone that way. Especially since he'd just punched the bastard in the jaw moment prior.

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Ishmael had scared him, there. He suppressed the laugh that bubbled up in his throat.

The man didn't yet sound entirely convinced, but Ishmael shrugged easily, shifting his position against the brick wall, letting himself look a little less poised, a fraction more relaxed. "That's right." He supposed a nugget or two of truth would not go awry. "I've been around a while," Ishmael impressed, inspecting his fingernails and scratching away a speck of dried blood. "Had plenty of practice. You know." He smiled knowingly.

"You just - caught me off guard, tonight," Ishmael added, raking his eyes over the man from his nose to his bloodied chest again, forcing himself not to get another whiff of him if he could help it. "Tested me, that's all." He leant down and gave the fellow a friendly pat on the shoulder, as if to say he was only teasing, as if he'd never been in any real danger. As if they were old friends, now.

Ishmael had always considered himself fairly decent at making friends, actually. Wasn't impossible, even for a bloodsucker: all one had to do was try a little charm, or else make the most out of a questionable situation. "I didn't catch your name," Ishmael added cheerfully, knowing full well that names hadn't been either of their first priority a little earlier, but... Well, it couldn't hurt now, if they were to have an arrangement.

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Ray took the vampire's words in, nodding occasionally as he saw fit. He supposed it all made sense. Though, he didn't really know much about vampires. He hadn't managed even a full two years at school after all. Most of what he did know of the species was what he'd heard from off the streets. Of course, that didn't really leave him with the greatest impressions nor the most truthful. He had to at least give the other man the benefit of the doubt though. He could have left him for dead quite easily enough. He likely would have, after that punch he'd thrown.

"Guess you can say I prefer fight over flight," he answered with a shrug. He'd always been that way though. It was why he'd wound up expelled instead of getting any further into his schooling career. He doubted he'd have gotten much further. He wasn't smart enough for full scholarships and there would have been no way there'd have been enough funds to see him through to his OWLs.

He glanced to the vampire at the question of his name. It seemed strange to be having a conversation with a vampire. A cordial conversation even. "Ray Beasley," he said, "I'd offer my hand but.. it hurts." He smirked then, at least making a joke of some of the situation would help. Maybe.

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He seemed like a good guy, Ishmael considered, somewhat idly. Or fun, and easygoing, and those were perhaps the two qualities that most mattered to him with humans. They had to be the sort who wouldn't overthink things - had to trust their gut rather than whatever they were told about vampires, monsters in the dark, whatever. Had to be reckless enough.

Ray Beasley, eh. He was precisely the sort of person Ishmael didn't mind, a truth confirmed by the fact he was already mustering up jokes about this encounter. No hard feelings indeed!

"Guess you could say that," he agreed, at the first remark, and offered a toothy grin at the second. "Ali," he said, jerking a thumb at himself - although he wasn't lying about his name here out of fear or being named and shamed for attacking strangers in the streets or anything, merely habit - and then laughed at the comment about his hand. "Never fear, it's the thought that counts."

"Here," Ishmael said (thinking perhaps he should do something that was a little more than thought, since the man had been so amenable), flicking out a coin from his pocket and towards Beasley in a lazy arc, "better have that as my apology. For getting it sorted. Wouldn't want you to forfeit your next match." Also he didn't look much like a man who could afford hospital bills of any sort. Or cast a bone-fixing spell of his own. Just Ishmael's impression.

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Raymond nodded simply in response to the vampire's name. He doubted he'd really remember it though, truthfully. He didn't much care to remember names of people. He'd never forget his face though, of that he was sure. Especially if he was going to be of use to the vampire in the future. He'd rather not break his hand again punching someone that had a jaw made of steel. It didn't bode well for his career as a boxer after all.

Catching the coin with his good hand, he glanced down at it to take note of what it was before pocketing it. "Thanks," he answered simply, glancing back up to the vampire, "Boxing just pays part of the bills after all." The Augurey didn't quite cover it all and if he had a good night boxing, the funds from the Augurey were simply extra. However, he wasn't likely to use the coin on his hand. He'd just make Rod fix it up. The little bastard may be a pain in his ass but he at least knew medical spells quite decently. And it wasn't like it would be the first time he'd had to fix a broken hand for Ray.

"So how do we go about this in the future?" he asked, gaze still settled on Ali, "You just.. show up? Or what?"

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Nolan Sets = Love

Ishmael raised his eyebrows as though he were surprised that the man had a career other than boxing, although that was hardly unexpected, and he was not necessarily interested enough to ask about what else he did. He'd eat his hat if he worked for the Ministry, anyway. (Or, well, he'd have to go and eat Beasley, but.)

"I can send you an owl, if you'd rather have warning," Ishmael said, amused, as though people didn't think vampires could be as courteous as any human, as though owl post was beyond their capabilities. "Or you can let me know where to find you, and..." He shrugged. Showing up spontaneously was no problem for him - and in fact, it was rather better. He grinned, in case Beasley was worried about giving out more personal information to a vampire. "Though I will need an invitation on the door."

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Ray looked a bit abashed at the emphasize on the use of the word owl. The man was a vampire but clearly he wasn't a total imbecile. He must have had his own ways of navigating the world with success so it only made sense that he'd picked up on wizarding norms over time. He, however, didn't want him near his home. His brothers were all there and that protective instinct he held for them always won out when it came down to it.

"I tend bar at the Augurey Beak Cafe," he answered simply, finally feeling as if he had his bearings about him enough to where he could stand up. He slowly did so, using the wall for support for the time being. "I'm there more often than not," he added with a shrug, "You can find me there." And if he wasn't there when the vampire needed a fix, well, maybe he'd be there the next time.

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Nolan Sets = Love

It was funny, wasn't it, how it was always the most mundane remarks that shocked people. Ishmael couldn't help but chuckle at the expression on the poor bloke's face. It was presumably a lot to deal with, he supposed, breaking hands, losing a few pints of blood and making friends all in a night. But what was life without a little spontaneity, a surprise or two?

The Augurey Beak - it struck a note of recognition in Ishmael's head, not merely from passing it by from his London prowling, in fact, but from Monty. Wasn't that a haunt of his, and of the ragtag bunch of activists he liked to heckle from time to time? (Ishmael didn't know much about it, only found the irony funny, Montgomery Morales there among do-gooders like a smirking cat among the pigeons.) "I know the place," Ishmael declared, eyeing Beasley casually again, as if to discern for signs that he was trying to pass off a lie. He didn't think so: Beasley had, after all, offered himself up willingly.

That was settled, then. Ishmael patted the man cheekily on the shoulder in parting, and then stepped away. "I'll see you for another drink sometime," he said with a merry smirk, before he drifted off down the street and into the night.

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