OPEN BAR POST

[the_cupbearer]

The bar is open!

Anyone is welcome at 4713, and the bartenders are happy to carry on a conversation for anyone that needs company to drink with. Tiqua--the lead bartender when Ganymede's not there, and the shift manager when he is--says she makes the best Black Velvet ever...blackberry imperial stout and champagne, that is. Ganymede is more than likely there too, just look for the smiling man with long hair braided back, but there's plenty of booths and tables as well, just be careful of you you sit with. They might not always be strangers.


[ this is an open post! feel free to drop off notes or things, or just hop in to talk to Ganymede if you want ]

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[midnightroads]

This is not Ganymede. Is that weird? It might be weird.

A freckle-faced man with espresso eyes and a wild mane of dark hair that can't decide on whether or not it wants to be curly walks in, smelling like coffee and tobacco and dressed all in black with silver jewelry including a skull ring and an ankh necklace, and he's not Ganymede, but in the right light, he looks just like him.

He saunters up to the bar with the same confidence one might expect if he owned the place, too. Come say hi?

ahahaha this is gonna be GLORIOUS

[the_cupbearer]

It...very definitely is weird.

Ganymede, freckled and dark-eyed and with his long hair braided back in a thick half-plait, had been coming around the corner from the back room with another bottle of syrup; he stops dead-still when he sees what could very well be his own self sauntering up and leaning on the bar. It's easy to tell when everyone else has seen him too--half the employees stop what they're doing, blinking as if they need to be sure of what they're wtinessing.

"...What can I get you?" he asks, very belatedly.

[midnightroads]

Bash glances up at Ganymede, and his eyes lock in a distinct stare, mouth hanging open in clear confusion and awe. Right, that's a thing, isn't it? I mean, really a thing.

But. But, there was a question asked, and he oughta answer it. "Cuppa coffee?"

Because he's that kind of jackass, at a bar but doesn't drink. But come the end of the night, he'll play designated driver and ferry the lost souls of the bar to their final destination--or at least, where they'll crash for the night. That's part of his job, too, almost as much as ferrying the dead lost souls to their final destination.

[the_cupbearer]

"Sure," he answers after a second, though he has to get the coffee packs one of his staff makes to actually do it. But he isn't moving yet, still staring at Bash, well...unabashedly.

"I'm not hallucinating, am I?" he asks eventually. "You look...almost exactly like me."


...What is this.

[midnightroads]

"Aw, naw, cuz. You look like me. Clearly." Their accents differ, though. Bash speaks like New Orleans, and not the nice parts of it. Lazy, almost, words melted by the heat of a Southern summer sun.

[the_cupbearer]

"Do I? I think of the two of us, you might be the younger," he managed as the coffee was brewing. Ganymede's own voice was almost unplaceable, accented from everywhere and anywhere, touches of England and the Middle East and south Asia, and everywhere else.

"I'm Ben, I own the bar. And you?"

[midnightroads]

"I'm Bash. I visit the bar. At least, if this isn't too fuckin' weird for you to accept." It might be, he knows it might be. His own measure for weird was blown way out of calibration the first time he met his father, and things haven't normalized since then.

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede chuckled. "It's not the strangest thing I've seen, beieve it or not. I've never encountered someone who looks so much like I do."

And hey, as long as he pays up and isn't mean to the staff...what more could he really ask for? "Is Bash short for something?"

Of course he hangs out here A LOT, feel free to come chat.

[professionalriot]

When the bar got busy Ashley could be found near the back, sitting on the dark blue leather couch, feet up on the coffee table. Phone in hand scrolling or his laptop resting on his knees as he played a game. He could be at home doing this but why? Ashley likes to be around people, he's a notorious social butterfly and flirt. The bar has a moody, sexy vibe that he loves and a great crowd.

Feet on the table, crossed at the ankles, he has a comfortable, lazy posture. One hand holds a rocks glass half full, smelling of a smoky, well aged bourbon that he's slowly sipping on. It's hot outside and Ash hates to wear clothes but he promised he would keep his shirt on, if you could call it that. The black tank top he wears is cut deep on the sides, nearly to the waist of his well worn, ripped up jeans. His other hand, propped up on the arm of the couch, hold his phone, scrolling TikTok, laughing to himself.

[the_cupbearer]

When the bar got busy, Ganymede could look over and see Ash in the side room on the couch, and it always made him smile. His lover and friend wa happy, comfortable in his space, and Ganymede loved to see that.

"I thought you were going to wear shorts tonight," he said lightly, dropping to sit next to Ash on the couch for a minute. He himself was in his usual black, the logo of the bar embroidered on his breast pocket; he didn't mandate anyone wear a uniform to work, much less himself, but it just suited him. "Hi, Woodstock."

[professionalriot]

As Ganymede approached his phone was immediately put away. He drained the rest of his bourbon. Dropping his feet on the ground he sat forward and set the glass on the table.

"Hey, Ace." He said with a playful smile. His hand was laid on Ganymede's knee and slowly slid up to his thigh. The other hand cupped his neck to pull him closer for a kiss.

"Nice night for a bike. Can't ride in shorts." Ashley said as he pulled back from the embrace, still keeping his hand on his loves thigh. "Tell me I'm crazy...I swear I saw a guy at the bar who looked a lot like you."

[the_cupbearer]

That got a laugh, and Ganymede shifted over to sit in Ashley's lap, happy as a clam at high tide. "You're not crazy, but he does look a lot like me. His name is Bash, and we are not the same person. He doesn't drink."

Which is weird, in Ganymede's opinion, but what can you do. "Ace? Do I need to figure that one out myself? And on the subject...want to give me a lift home later?"

[professionalriot]

"No shit. I actually know that guy. Ran into him at a Denny's. Small fucking world." No way a guy who looks that much like Ganymede named Bash wasn't the same one he had coffee with. The city is big but not that big.

It was natural to shift and adjust to accommodate Ganymede sitting in his lap. Like two puzzle pieces who knew they were the right fit. "Snoopy. His plane was the flying ace, right?" Ashley dotted a kiss on the end of his nose. "That won't be a habit though, rather call you by your name."

There has been a noticable change in his use of Ganymede's name. In public he sticks to Ben or Benny. The rest of the time he calls him by his given name. Use to be Benny was the name he used all the time.

"Of course I want to. Can I stay?"

[the_cupbearer]

The name change wasn't something that had escaped Ganymede, and he loved it; he so rarely got the chance to have people call him by his given name--even his ex hadn't, he'd made up another name entirely to avoid the crossover.

"You can always stay here, Ash. I like seeing you enjoy yourself here," he murmured against Ashley's lips. "I'll take Ace. I like it."

[professionalriot]

"I meant stay at your place for the night. I'll make us pancakes for breakfast."

He bumped his knuckles down the front of his shirt. Giving a little tug on the fabric at his chest. "I missed you today...I maybe have something for you."

[the_cupbearer]

"Always, you know you don't have to ask," Ganymede murmured, chuckling as Ash tugged on his shirt. "I know exactly what you have for me."

He loved it, and he felt happier than he could remember ever being, and he enjoyed the sex too--Ash was so much more inventive and thorough and just better at making love than his ex had been, and he never felt like it was forced.

"Make it waffles and you have a deal. I have rock sugar at the house."

[dealing_death]

It was a relief to no longer be on babysitting duty. Much of her time had been wasted keeping other people alive. Soothing wounded egos and tending to the emotions of tender hearted monsters who wanted to wallow in pity. The stress of it weighing on her heavily. She wasn't the maternal type, had accepted who and what she is a long time ago, and no longer let the guilt of her life tear her apart. Being with someone for so long who lived for the self loathing had taken a toll.

When was the last time she went out to have fun and wasn't ambushed by hunters? Thinking about that she realized it had happened every single time they left the security of her home. Too much, even for a woman like her. No one did anything to control it, to stop the bleeding so to speak and she had grown wary of the inaction.

She thought this would hurt. That the pain would be crushing. What she had not expected was to feel lighter, like she could breathe again. The life she had fought, bled and died for, was hers again. At some point she had let herself get absorbed by a world that was not hers until she had started to disappear.

Selene was never one to party or mingle in the crowds but she did enjoy being out. She stayed on the fringes and watched. In a city such as this the people watching was quite entertaining. Insightful even. Her fingers lightly rake over the plush, blue velvet, leaving trails on the fabric that she wipes away with her palm. Eyes wander the crowd, calm but alert. She had decided to try to the Black Velvet, drinking from her glass leisurely as she relaxed.

[abrightboy]

Case over, Malcolm is waiting for the car to come and pick him up. Might as well go inside the bar and have a drink.

He walks up to the bar and slides onto a stool, waiting to catch the bartender's attention.

[the_cupbearer]

The bartenders here are many and varied, all shades, shapes, colors and the like. One of them--the one coming down to where Malcolm is sitting--greets him with a gentle smile as he leans into the bar, sleeves rolled up and hair in a long plait down his back.

"Hello there. Welcome to 4713, I'm Ben." Ganymede looks and sounds like he could be anyone, accent unplaceable though there are hints of everywhere in it, maybe twenty-five at the very top end of the guessable age range. "What can I get for you?"

[abrightboy]

“Uh… scotch on the rocks?” Malcolm requests. “Unless there’s something you’re known for that I just can’t miss. I’ve never been here before,” he adds.

[the_cupbearer]

"Scotch on the rocks I can do pretty easy, sure," he chuckles, reaching for a rocks glass and tipping his head towards another bartener down the way. "My friend down there is working on this drink, blackberry imperial tout and champagne. Called a Black Velvet...but you don't look much like a beer guy to me," Ganymede says.

"Our well is Chivas Regal 12, but I've also got Hakushu 12 year, and Macallan 18 Sherry if you feel like going up from there," he offers. "

[abrightboy]

"I'll try the Macallan," Malcolm tells him. "Thanks."

[the_cupbearer]

"Coming up," he answers, turning away to grab the bottle, twirling it around his thumb to pour a couple of fingers' worth over the single huge ice cube he'd already put in the glass.

"Do you want to start a tab, mister...?"

[abrightboy]

"Bright. Malcolm Bright. And sure; I might be here for a few hours," Malcolm tells him.

[the_cupbearer]

"Bright," Ganymede repeats with the smallest of chuckles. "I like that name. Sounds good," he says, taking the necessary things like his ID and card to start a tab.

"You visiting the city, or just never been this far down the road before? You said you'd never been here before."