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

[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.

[the_cupbearer]

"...No, that didn't sound pointed at all," Ganymede says lightly, looking askance at his conversation partner from across the bar. "Nothing specific in the creative differences, hm?"

[abrightboy]

"Unless taking exception to cops murdering suspects is a sign of latent psychopathy and potential narcissism," Malcolm says with a shrug.

[the_cupbearer]

"Was it the shooting in the back that makes you call it murder, or the laying a handy weapon down?" Ganymede asks, head tilted at Malcolm. He rather thinks it might be less cruel to have died than been in a mental hospital or prison...but he neglects to voice that. People learning he's been in both without the benefit of knowing the rest of the story tends to go poorly.

"How was it you took exception? Something tells me it wasn't just in writing."

[abrightboy]

"I might have punched him in his smug, cold-blooded face," Malcolm says, taking a sip of his drink.

[the_cupbearer]

At that he laughs, bright and amused and not at all judgemental. Ganymede approves of not mincing words--or actions. He might have punched a few people of his own, though not specifically for shooting anyone in the back.

Then again, he's also done far, far worse. "Good on you," Ganymede chuckles. "I have to assume that's when the FBI relationship ended. But then, that brought you here, so I can't be entirely negative."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm blinks for a moment. Was that… flirting? Couldn’t have been; not with him. He recovers himself and half laughs. “Apparently there’s an unwritten rule about not punching sheriffs. Who knew?”

[the_cupbearer]

Oh, it was flirting. Not exceedingly subtle flirting, either.

"I'd be willing to bet it's written down somewhere, but it might not be very well advertised," Ganymede chuckles. "Still, it must have been solid if he was willing to complain over it. You'd think that would fall under the purview of playing stupid games, winning stupid prizes." But, evidently not.

[abrightboy]

"They did say it's actually also a written rule," Malcolm concedes. "He wanted people to think he was a hero for what he did and he can't be a hero if he gets charged for shooting an unarmed prisoner."

[the_cupbearer]

"Not a fan of hero-worship, that's always a good sign," Ganymede chuckles. "So what do you like about your job? You know, what keeps you doing it?"

He likes talking to people, and he knows his alcohol. It seemed like a good mix.