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 ]

Comments

[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."

[abrightboy]

"I've been by this way for work, but never this neighbourhood. I'm from New York," Malcolm tells him.

[the_cupbearer]

"Ahh, Chelsea gets a bad rap sometimes, but it's nice out here. Pretty quiet," Ganymede says, leaning on the bar to talk for a moment. "I'm not a native New Yorker myself, I came to the states several years back. But I like it, you know. It's different here."

He had been around the coutry since its inception, really, in various places and times, but he couldn't let that on so much. "What do you do for work, if you don't mind me asking?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm takes a small sip of his drink.

"I consult on homicide investigations for the police," he says. "I was out here following up on some evidence, actually."

[the_cupbearer]

Both brows go up at that, and while Ganymede makes an incredibly good facsimile of surprise, there's something underneath that's not even close.

"Oh, wow. What sort of homicide investigation would bring you out here?"

[abrightboy]

"Serial murder," Malcolm tells him. "It's sort of my specialty," he adds with little humility because, honestly, he's earned the lack of it. It's the one thing he knows he's good at.

[the_cupbearer]

"...Serial murder. Is your...specialty," Ganymede repeats slowly, to make sure he heard that correctly, because if he did then clearly this man has both a fair bit of explaining to do, and a much better disguise than the average man hiding something.

"And here mine's just a drink. Goodness," he murmurs, spinning a little metal pony glass around his thumb. It's a faint lie, because his real specialty is being unable to die--or more adequately, stay dead--but that's slightly harder to work into conversation.

[abrightboy]

"Um..." He leans forward slightly. "Solving serial murders. Just to be completely clear," Malcolm tells him. He's seen that look on faces before. Murder is the only thing keeping me sane! ....Solving, not doing. "I hunt down murderers and bring them to justice."

[the_cupbearer]

"Might have wanted to add that word in there," Ganymede chuckles. "Though honestly...not the strangest thing I've heard lately."

He takes all sorts, really, and not just because he's a bartender. "Are there that many in the city, do you think? Surely they'd make the news now and then."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm laughs. "I said I was on a homicide investigation!" he points out good-naturedly. He takes another sip of his drink. "And some of them do make the news. They love it, by the way. The attention. This one isn't that kind, though. His work is satisfying a... a need inside himself. It's private and precious to him."

[the_cupbearer]

"You didn't say which end!" Ganymede laughs back, glad to have at least been amusing in the conversation. "I'd think all of them are satisfying some kind of need. Even if it's just revenge."

He wouldn't know anything about that. Ganymede's never killed anyone before. Honest.

"So what makes you think it's precious to this one?"

[abrightboy]

"There is always a need, yes. But this one is strictly internal. Private. His own. It's precious because he doesn't want to share it with anyone. He doesn't want to explain it. He doesn't want to be understood. He just wants... whatever gratification it is that the act itself gives him," Malcolm explains.

[the_cupbearer]

"Huh," Ganymede says. "But...clearly you understand him. Well enough, anyway. You know the guy?" he asks, picking up a glass and pouring himself some of the same whiskey Malcolm has.

[abrightboy]

"I don't know him, but I hope to meet him soon," Malcolm says archly. "Understanding them is what I do."

[the_cupbearer]

"Sounds like the worst form of dating. Finding out the worst of someone before you ever meet them," Ganymede chuckles, drinking his whiskey and leaning against the bar. "So you're a profiler, then?" he asks, at least passing familiar with the term, if not the finer points of the occupation.

Reading people is what he does as well, after all. Though he's not quite as specialized at it as Malcolm, he imagines. Still, his long life has given him enough practice that he's better than average.

[abrightboy]

"Yeah. I used to work for the FBI, but that didn't really... work out so much. So now I work for the NYPD," Malcolm tells him.

[the_cupbearer]

"Too much bureau, not enough investigation?" Ganymede guesses with a hint of a smile. He might understand more than he lets on easily.

"Well, I'm honored to have one of New York's finest in the bar. I don't often get cops here, honestly--much less profilers. It sounds like an interesting job."

[abrightboy]

"More like... creative differences," Malcolm tells him. "I wanted to put serial killers in prison and they wanted to give a free pass to scumbag sheriffs that shot suspects in the back when they were laying down their weapons," he says with a shrug, taking a sip of his drink.