Welcome to Imbibe

The light clank of glass bottles against wooden shelves signaled from behind the bar. The ever busy tenders and staff bustling about all working ever so diligently at their tasks. Even in the off hours there was a brisk flow of patrons flocking in and out of a new establishment in the city. “Imbibe” A bar that had seemingly popped up out of nowhere overnight, and the proprietor that took equal turns behind the bar, and on the floor as well. He spun the neck of a bottle between his fingers, flipping it upside down as he combined apple brandy, alpine amaro, delicate sweet vermouth and crème de cacao all in a small glass. He twirled a sterling silver spoon in the glass, combining the mixture into a deep golden brown. With his other hand he gently carved away an orange peel, twisting it around his ring finger before straining the drink into a chilled glass and floating the orange on top. He flicked his wrist, a silver lighter suddenly appearing in his palm.

“Enjoy to your hearts content.” He flicked the lighter, a small burst of flame escaped the lighter singing the top of the orange peel thanks to its fragrant oils. He gently lifted the glass up, blowing the flame away in a single gentle puff. He set the glass down for his current customer, a fellow newcomer to the city, an elven girl with a starry look in her eyes, and an necklace that had caught his eye. “Coperta Da Sci, I hope it is to your liking.” Words like velvet flowed from his lips. The woman took her drink, but words seemed to fail her as the man stepped back.

“Mr. Virgils, you have a visitor.” Called his head server. Dante glanced over his shoulder, his lips slowly pulling into a smile.

“Oh? Well, I do hope they’ll forgive my tardiness.” He removed himself from behind the bar, walking towards a set of beautiful wooden stairs that lead up to the second level of Imbibe. He cleared his throat, stepping inside with his typical grin.

A backroom was sectioned out to look like a comfortable study. A desk separated the room, while leather arm chairs sat, now full with the occupants. A single cup of black coffee sat in a porcelain cup, wafts of steam gently wisped up from the black surface. At the head of the desk sat a young woman, her black hair flowed down, covering the right half of her face, slim dress cut off just above her knees, revealing a pair of long crossed legs. Dark red lipstick completed her ensemble. She gently tapped on the desk, glancing up only as the door to the room opened, in stepped two men, Dante and a slender young man wearing a slightly wrinkled tan suit.

“You may take a seat sir.” Dante said politely. Still dressed in his bartender’s clothes he stood just slightly back from the woman, arms tucked neatly behind his back, his eyes locked onto the young man. The woman shifted slightly in the chair, her painted nails gently tapping on the desk as she re-crossed her legs.

“Mr… Wells was it?” She asked, her smoky voice filling the warm room.

“Y-Yes ma’am I-I mean-“

“Yes, we all know what you meant.” She commented. There was a pause, a drawn out silence that was making Mr. Wells feel ever more uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat a bit, the leather rubbing under his suit pants. “Nervous, Mr. Wells?” She commented, tilting her head slightly to the side, her hair falling in response.

“Y-Yes, I-I mean no! I mean…” The woman rolled her eyes slightly. If she didn’t move this along, they’d be there all day.

“Mr. Wells please, that is quite enough. Now, you are here because you wish to know something, is that right?” She asked. “I read your submission request, but it is imperative that I hear it from your mouth directly.” She punctuated her point with a tap of her fingers. Mr. Wells shifted a bit, looking down and at his hands, more specifically the ring on his left hand.

“M-My wife she… She has gone missing and… And I would do anything to find her… P-Please I didn’t know where to start!” He finally looked up towards the woman at the desk.

“The police perhaps?” She asked.

“The police work to slow! I can’t just sit back by the phone and hope against all hope that they’ll find her!” He exclaimed, his voice growing louder. The woman tapped her finger once more on the desk, the lights in the room flickering slightly in response.

“Mr. Wells, please… Do try to remember to use your indoor voice.” She reached out, gently taking the cup of black coffee in front of her, bringing it to her lips. “A missing wife, how tragic. And what has lead you to believe she didn’t merely leave ‘you’ high and dry?”

“N-No!” He said in a quieter tone, his hands shaking slightly. “E-Evelyn’s friends haven’t seen or heard from her either… She just went to work one day and… Never came back. P-Please I know I must seem like a fool but-“

“Enough.” She stood up from her seat, walking slowly around to lean against the front of the desk, her polished black heels clacking against the wooden floor. “So, you’d like us to find any information relevant to your wife’s whereabouts and safety. Is that correct?” Mr. Wells looked up towards the domineering figure, nodding a few times in response. “P-Please Ms. Virgils I will do anything! I-“ The light sound of slow clapping from the corner of the room silenced the man. The woman chuckled lightly, raising the cup of coffee to her lips once more.

“I believe there has been some confusion.” She whispered softly.

“You’d do anything? Now now Mr. Wells, you should know better than to use such broad terms.” A deep mellow voice rumbled. The man standing in the corner now stepped up, sitting in the main chair as the woman now changed places, sitting on the side of the desk. “But what is a man in love without his lover?” He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling softly. Again, silence took over the room, Dante pondered his request, weighing the pros and cons of using precious resources to track down his wife. “Tell me Mr. Wells, what would a man do to get back the woman he loves?” Dante’s eyes remained fixed up towards the ceiling, as though he were only somewhat paying attention.

“I would do anything! I would even sell my-” Dante held up a finger, Mr. Wells stopped talking immediately.  

“Always so dramatic.” He quipped, finally lowering his eyes to stare into Mr. Well’s. “Tell me, do you believe your soul holds such value to me? My my, you do certainly have an overinflated sense of self-worth.” He chuckled lightly. “How arrogant!” He clapped his hands once more. “Oh no Mr. Wells, I am afraid you have gravely misjudged my character. But I am not unsympathetic after all.” He glanced towards his assistant, the woman in black. “Ash, I believe there was a file relevant to this man’s inquiry yes?” The woman nodded. She walked around to the back of the desk, opening the first drawer she removed a file, setting it down in front of Dante. “Ah yes… Evelyn Wells, age 42, a lovely nymph of a woman, well liked by her peers at work, despised by none. ‘neat and tidy’ ‘very motherly’ ‘always a blessing to have’” He rattled off some quotes people had spoken about her. “And as of…” He trailed off glancing at the clock on his desk. “53 hours ago, missing after finishing work.” He closed the packet. “Mr. Wells,” he began, holding the file in his hand. “In this folder, is everything a half-witted private investigator would need to find your wife.” Mr Wells leaned forward, clutching at his ring, beads of sweat beginning to form on his brow. “So take it.” He tapped the folder, it disappeared from the table, suddenly appearing in his lab. Mr. Wells flinched, shocked by the trick.

“W-Wait, but w-we haven’t discussed payment! H-Here is a bank note, it’s n-not exactly a king’s ransom but it’s all of our-” Dante leaned forward in his seat, gently intertwining his fingers on his desk.

“No thank you.” His voice silencing further protest. He stood up from his desk. “Not all that glitters is gold, and not all that is valuable to me is money. Now take the file, go find yourself a competent private investigator, and find your wife.” He walked towards the door, opening it he motioned for Mr. Wells to get up. Mr. Wells stumbled up, walking towards the door, stopping to look at Dante once more.

“M-Mr. Virgils thank you, thank you so much! I don’t… I mean I don’t know how I could ever repay you for…” Dante shook his head.

“What is that old adage you people use?... I’m, paying it forward?” He smiled down at the man, motioning for him to go. Mr. Wells shook Dante’s hand, and hastily made his leave, leaving only Dante and his assistant in the room.

“Why didn’t you humor him and just take his money?” She asked softly, sipping her coffee. Dante chuckled, his shoulders slightly bobbing.

“Because he’ll need all their savings to pay for the addiction rehab for his wife… Lovely woman, with a nasty drug habit.” He chuckled again. “I’m rather impressed she managed to keep it together this long. Looks like she went and got herself into a stupor in the city, she’ll be fine of course… But that man isn’t the predator in all of this… He’s the victim.” And Dante wasn’t known for taking advantage of the victims, fortunately Dante had slipped a few pamphlets and numbers to call in the back of the folder. “Thank you for vetting that one Ash, see to the next few clients, I’m going back downstairs.” He waved, closing the door behind him. He readjusted his tie, and straightened out his vest. “Now, where was I?”

"You owe a pretty hefty tab from last time. I was told not to serve either of you until it's been paid." Was how the bartender greeted the two companions at the rough establishment down a few blocks from their studio apartment. Siresh Brozus was more than obliged to pay the outstanding balance, their last outing was one they didn't even recall so it sounded like him to just walk on out without paying. A simple mistake with no harm done at any normal place. But upon paying the money owed, the owner of the bar came by and told them they were no longer allowed to be here. "And why's that, sir?" The tiger asked with a sly grin and a "make my day" intonation, laying his cheek against his a bored fist as his elbow leaned on the bar. None of them were probably prepared for the owners answer. "Because yourself or your lady-boy friend there thought it was a good idea to use the men's restroom to suck one another off. Disgusting. Had to shut the place down for a whole day after to clean up the mess." "...Wait a minute now-" "Are you dumb? Both of you get the fuck out of my bar. You faggots aren't welcome." Was this really the first time he would be kicked out of a bar for...sexual deviancy? That never happened before. He looked over to Jasmine with a half agape expression. Siresh played it cool though. He saved face and recovered himself so that he could remove himself from the bar stool and softly took Jas by the shoulder and guided her out. Siresh didn't leave immediately though, there was still something that bothered him about the whole thing.

When the owner approached him to aggressively attempt to push him the rest of the way out of the bar Siresh side stepped out of the way of the shove with his left fist crashing into the man's jaw. A warning jab to the man delivering the blow, but to the one receiving it, he went down likely more from surprise than anything else. "You call her a lady-boy again and you won't wake up to see daylight next time. That's rude. Don't be rude to her. In fact you better apologize if you ever see her on the street again. Got it?" This tiger wasn't one to intimidate or use direct threats. After all, he was a hacker. A terrorist of the cyber variety. This was a pretty off behavior for him actually. But after taking in the frightened look of the owner and finding that he was understood loud and clear, Siresh was on his way out the door. Whether Jasmine was there or off in a particular direction, he was off to go the opposite way. Sure he defended her. But did he like her right now? No. Not likely. Actually, he didn't want to even look at her. He was gone, off to some other place to drink. Alone. And not risk being a deviant with her at some other establishment. "I could never get why the jews put a wall between men and women at their temples. Can't defile a sacred place if you cant even see each other. I get it now. Never felt so violated in my life." Whether she could hear him or not, he was good as gone after that, walking off with his long legs. Hurt and alone now to himself and his anxious thoughts.

For awhile it felt like he was walking in circles. Maybe he was? Siresh hardly could pay attention. He made the conscious decision to find a different bar now that he was pretty much lost. No way Jasmine would find it right? Right. He stumbled upon a place called "Imbibe" which seemed fresh and unknown to him. He looked it up on his phone and found very few reviews or information on it, as it seemed to be brand new and not even on the map yet. Why not give it a shot? If it was off the grid there was no way anyone would find him in this piss poor state of mind. It would be best for everyone that way. Siresh walked himself inside. The air was classy but with a hint of modern mixology bar elements? From first glance the cocktails appeared intense and popped with color and appeal. His eyes darted around at the patrons and the mix of people in attendance. Did this place even strike a particular demographic yet? With one expecting hipster millennials with gauges and septum piercings wearing beanies and large glasses, he came to notice the well dressed, some depressed, and otherwise normal folk of the city. With golden narrowed eyes still scanning the bar, he decided to take up a seat at the bar. He surely wouldn't wait very long for service or at the very least a run down of what this place was about here, but he still made himself appear as if he was in no rush at all. Though horrible etiquette, the male took out his cellphone to check over any personal texts or otherwise if any emails had come in.

Upon checking his business email for his private investigations gig, Siresh found himself with a new client who wished to find his missing wife. Interestingly enough though, the man had uploaded what could have been an entire file folder of his own findings and evidence that put this cat in the bag. Wasn't often you found someone willing to do their own foot work. Did this guy just really need to get the extra help? Or did he already hire someone and they gave up? It was signed by a Mr. Wells, a name that was common in this city perhaps but not nearly as important as others, nothing flashy that rang a bell. But this case should be easy and "Well" enough to make some extra cash. Agent Bronze responded to the email, that he would be on the case and asking if they could discuss a few details over the phone or over coffee sometime. It was short and sweet, but enough to give the man a swift answer to the issue at hand and some peace of mind that someone had heard him. For now though, the phone was finally tucked away so he could partake in his own peace of mind.

The bar’s steady pace of customers continued on. Inside the warmth of the lights and the light conversation gave a homey atmosphere, despite it’s modern design. A new customer entered alone, clearly a bit distracted. The head bartender glanced up, taking note of the bearded man, looking back down at his upcoming drink orders. The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs carried through the back half of the establishment. Dante came back, folding up the sleeves on his pressed shirt before tying his hair back into a loose ponytail.

“Dante, Gerald is around back.” Said one of his waitresses who handed him a piece of paper. He glanced over it, smiling widely.

“Gerald? He’s running a bit early! I’ll be right around.” He patted her on the shoulder, before heading towards the kitchen. He pushed the doors open, entering the kitchen which bustled with a lively pace. Preppers, chefs, and their aids scurried about, fulfilling orders. Imbibe didn’t typically have a full menu, but the staff always seemed to be busy, keeping up with the quality that was expected of this new establishment. Dante whistled, catching the attention of one of the aids. “Gerald is here, a bit early.” The aid nodded.

“Yes sir! Right away sir!” He quickly prepared a plate, though there was no clear presentation. Instead, he prepared only a deep bowl of thick rich soup with a few crusty rolls. Dante took the plate himself, then proceeded to head… In the opposite direction of the bar, instead he walked out the back of Imbibe and into an alley around back. There he held out the plate to a disheveled older man, draped in layers of dirty clothes with unkempt, greasy hair. Clearly the man was homeless.

“Gerald! Always a pleasure.” He handed him the plate, and some silverware. “Enjoy.” He leaned against the wall of Imbibe, letting Gerald eat. “How have you been Gerald? Well I hope.” He said looking forward. Gerald looked up at him, nodding.

“All things considered…” He said in a dry voice. Dante glanced down at him, patting him on the shoulder.

“Good. Don’t hesitate to come back… Same to your friends. You’re doing me a great service after all.” He pushed off the wall. “Well, back to work. Just leave the plate by the door… Or come through the front, you’re homeless, not a contagious monster Gerald.” Ah the homeless and vagrants of a city. It was so unfortunate… That everywhere they went people seemed to look away, choosing to not notice their plight… And more importantly, not care what they say around them. Oh how they made such lovely informants, his ever growing group of… ‘Barflies’ that was what he called them anyways.

Dante returned to the bar, stepping once more behind it to prep drinks. He received a quick update from his head bartender, then turned his attention to the newest addition to Imbibe, a bearded man who had wandered in alone.

“What can I do for you sir?” He asked, a faint smile gently spread across his face as he looked over this newcomer, wondering what had brought him alone into this place.

Jasmine couldn't believe it. She stood there, at the bar and just stared at the man. An open tab? That couldn't be that terrible.All they had to do was to pull out money and hand it over. But it didn't seem that simple. Or rather, didn't seem like that was just it. They had paid their dues and waited to be served only to be confronted by the owner of the bar. Raising an eyebrow at him, Jasmine crossed her arms and looked at this guy. She wasn't sure which was more unbelievable: The fact that she got so drunk she blew Siresh in the bathroom or the fact that they closed the place down for a day to clean up the mess? Cum was messy, but a whole day? What? No way. It was almost laughable. Almost.

But it was clear that this asshole didn't want them there anymore. Okay cool. She didn't need to do business here anymore. Not a big deal. Turning away, she was going to leave. It wasn't the first time she was called a faggot, and it wouldn't be the last. Lady-boy friend, however, was a new one for her. But it wasn't worth the aggravation over. It was her life. It was the life she picked and dealt with and she didn't care. And yet Siresh seemed to get offended about it. So much so, he turned around and sent the owner to the ground with a nasty left hook. It was at this time Jasmine started to get angry. He didn't need to do that. He didn't need to do anything. "That wasn't necessary..." Her light blue eyes hardened on him as they walked out, only putting fuel on the fire that was starting. Violated? He felt violated? If it only took him that much to feel violated, then he clearly didn't know what that word meant. "Whatever."

She walked off; not caring where he went. She needed a drink. A very strong, and very tall drink. Maybe two or three. Maybe enough to forget everything today or enough to remember what happened the other night. Honestly, it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered. She just wanted to smash something. Maybe punch someone. Was there a reason why she was so upset?

Time passed and her gaze finally focused on a sign: Imbibe. It was some sort of bar, but one she hadn't seen before. Jasmine frequented a lot of bars. A lot. Maybe a good fourth of the bars in town. But a new one who didn't know her face was always a good thing. Maybe they sold something good here. It was worth a shot. So with a shrug, the half angel lady-boy walked in and took a seat at an empty spot. She paid no mind to those around her or whoever sat around her. If anything, her bad mood would be enough to ward most everyone from her area.

Sliding onto the bar stool, Jasmine pulled out her phone, her ID that said 'Daniel Olson', and waited for the bartender to come around. While sitting there, the blonde scrolled through her phone, passing the time. A few times her blue eyes glanced up and on the last round, she locked onto the asshole within earshot of her: Siresh fucking K. Brozus. A new rage filled her as she looked away. Her phone slammed onto the counter as the gender neutral looking woman man thing glared forward. Why was he here? Of all the places, he picked this one? Was he running something now? No. There couldn't be something here? Was there? No it didn't matter. At least, not yet.

Standing, Jasmine grabbed her phone and ID and slid into the seat next to Siresh. With nothing but smiles, Jasmine showed the man serving drinks her card and ordered for her wonderful partner~ "He'll have a cosmopolitan. Believe it or not, it's his favorite drink." Turning her attention to Siresh, Jasmine gave him her best Fake smile ever~ "Fancy meeting you here~ And to think you didn't want to get drinks with me~" She gave him a friendly nudge, as if they were friends. Yes, she was trying to piss him off now. She was pissed off with him. With him in more ways than one. But they were in public so she was going to be on her best behavior. Returning her attention to the bartender, she continued to smile towards him, taking in any detail she could. "Is this a new place? I don't recall you being in town. I've been to a few bars around here. Yours seems rather...cozy." Was cozy the right word? Maybe, maybe not. Regardless, here they were. In a bar once again. Now it was a question of what kinda information she was going to get out of this man.

A lot of things happened. Two folks had approached. The only welcome one being the bartender, of course. His eyes shot over and gave his partner a side glare. Really? A Cosmopolitan? Now she was just trying to piss him off. Thankfully Jasmine made a grave mistake and did not give her drink order out. No. If he was going to drink and drink he didn't want, she was going to have to suck it down and do the same. "And he'll have a Sex on My Face. He just loves those. On his face though, of course." Jasmine played hard games but Siresh always played harder. Fuck this chick coming in and being in his space. She must have followed him. Siresh flicked his ID over, a real one but it only gave the name of Bronze Wilder, the name he always went by around town and beyond. "I like how we wound up at the same bar. It must be new, it's not even on the net yet. Crazy how we both happened to find it. At the same time." Siresh was already losing his grip. He had to take a minute and look away, stop pretending to be nice to her. The cyber terrorist looked before him to smile at the bartender across the way. "Do tell, friend. What's up with this swanky establishment here?"

Dante nodded to the rather fatigued looking fellow. He looked to his left, towards the other bartender, but looked back as another rather interesting figure sat next to the young man. Their interaction… Was rather funny! He couldn’t help but chuckle at the two, watching the sparks of passion fly between the two of them… He just wasn’t entirely sure if it was romantic passion or not? Looking at their ID’s he made a mental note, not only of their names, but of the type of ID they had handed him. When the two ordered for each other a sly grin spread across his face.

“Oh? My what an eclectic pair we have the pleasure of serving today.” He nodded to his head bartender, who went to work making their drinks. “Thank you Calum.”

“Just doin’ the job you hired me for.” He replied in a casual manner, his slight Scottish accent coming through. Calum prepped the two drinks… Needing a bit of a refresher on how exactly to make a “Sex on my face” With one quick swipe he removed several bottles from the back shelf. Gripping the neck of two at a time he quickly poured the variety of liquors into several jiggers before combining them in a tin with ice and giving the whole ordeal a fevered shake. He strained the concoction into a tall slim collin’s glass with several large ice cubes, then garnished with a skewer of raspberries. Next up… The cosmopolitan. Flipping over a bottle of vodka he quickly combined the Russian spirit with Cointreau and a few splashes of cranberry and lime juice. As before he mixed it all in a fresh tin, before double straining it into a martini glass, garnishing with a thinly sliver of lime that he coated the rim with first. Sliding the drinks to their respective owner he crossed his arms. “Enjoy.” Dante grinned once more, pouring another customer a pint of dark stout from a tap behind the bar, remaining silent during this interaction, letting Calum answer their questions.

“This place here is Imbibe, and yea it’s a new figure on the street.” He tapped his finger gently on the bar’s surface. “Can’t quite place when exactly we opened, all the days and nights sort of blur together ya’ know?” He flicked his writs out, a small fruit carving knife now twirled between his fingers. He began to prep some more fruit for the other customers before glancing at the two of them once more, Calum’s eyes lingering on Jasmine for a moment longer, then he went back to it. When he was finished he reached behind him without looking, pulling a bottle down from the shelf. Flourishing two chilled low ball glasses he poured each of them a finger from the bottle. He slid the glasses over to each of them. He set the bottle down in front of them so they could see. "Aberlour A’Bunadh, the two o’you look like you could stand a bit of Scottish love, if you catch ma’drift.” He put the bottle back. “No charge for the scotch.” He said before going off to serve a few more drinks. Dante all the while continued to smile. Now as the solo person behind the bar he stepped up a bit, cleaning a few glasses while he addressed the two.

“So, what brings two friends into Imbibe?”



~~~~~~ Reference Links ~~~~~~

Dante Virgils

Ash

Calum

Behind her legs a soft black furred cat tail would mostly remain still, except for the single slow twitch toward the end. Her large black ears were pointed forward listening to the people she passed by. Her hands in her black jean pockets, her posture slightly leaned back on her heels. Her stride was somewhat lazy today, not in a hurry to get anywhere. What time was it? Where was she going? Both questions anyone normal would think about, however to a cat these didn't matter to her. The city was her hunting grounds. She could climb and sneak to her hearts content. Most of the people around her would ignore her, there were only a few who knew her by name. Some merely knew her as 'midnight, Jinx, princess, or Miss kitty' or whatever other name they decided to give her at the time.

Raven black hair would hang long and loosely around her shoulders and behind her back, stretching down to just above her rear where her tail started. This mane of dark locks made the young woman's pale skin seem more like porcelain then flesh. Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink, she was warm blooded. Continuing to slink along the path her large yellow eyes would scan the area for anything of importance. 'A bar?.. I don't remember this being here...' Pausing for a moment to allow herself to slowly scan over the building. What sort of place was this? Was she dressed appropriately? Looking down at herself she tilted her head to the side. Black skinny jeans with a rip in the left knee, where she had ripped them a long time ago climbing through a broken window in some old building somewhere. Black leather finger less gloves. Her black thick soled combat boots. If she could get away with running around barefoot she would, but somehow she knew she would get scolded for that. A tight white tank top clung to her top an inverted black cross decorated the front of it. And lastly her favorite leather jacket, which was a little scratched and beat up from previous adventures and thankfully lacking bullet holes.

'Eh... Fuck it. I've been thrown out of better places.' Curiosity had got the best of her, and she now found herself taking slow steady steps to the establishment. As she made her way she was careful to watch who was around, any sign of Rossi trash and she would be out of there before anyone could notice. After all... Curiosity killed the cat.

Finally inside now she would allow her senses to slowly inhale the scents of the bar. It had been a while since she had allowed herself to be in a social place. A bar wasn't much of a scene for her, naturally she didn't like to be in places with a lot of people around. Even more so she didn't have many people she called, 'friend.' Which made the fun aspects of a bar far less enjoyable. These sort of places though always offered a means of people watching. It was silly how loose lipped some people got after a few drinks, and a pretty woman batting her black eyelashes.

Making her way further inside she sat herself down at the bar, keeping herself a few seats away from the chattering couple. Reaching to her inner jacket pocket she would pull out a leather wallet reaching for her ID, 'Alice West, 24.' Setting the ID on the bar she waited. She'd have to order a drink if she wanted to sit and people watch, but what should she drink tonight?.. Decisions, Decisions. As she pondered this she would listen to the people around her.

The smirk on her face dropped the instant he ordered her drink. Sex on my face? The fuck man. If looks could kill, Siresh Brozus would be a dead man a second time. Fuck that man and everything about him. But she wasn't going to let him get the better of her. Oh no. Not today. Not on this day. And so, she watched as her fruity ass drink was mixed. Coconut, banana, Southern Comfort, some other stuff and all that fucking gay ass fruit. Look at it. At least with the contemplation, it was just pink. Pink like strawberry ice cream. This? This was gonna be gross. So very gross. Or at least she thought. Not wanting to be rude, the blonde woman took a sip of it and died a little inside. Just a little. It was good. But there was no way she was ever going to admit that to Siresh.

A bit of happiness came to her when the hard stuff was thrown her way. Taking it without a second thought, Jasmine took a healthy sip and enjoyed the burn. The burn made her feel alive. The burn meant a great deal to her. She knew she could get fucked up and knew when to stop. Mixed drinks? Fucking ninjas. Deadly.

Her blue eyes locked onto the man speaking saying that it was just new. New? Yet popular? It had a good amount of business here. A lot of people seemed to be coming in and out of this place. What made it so special? What were they hiding? Or what were they selling? Shrugging, Jasmine returned to Siresh and spoke. "Fancy that. Now we get the pleasure of seeing one another yet again. It's like you're attached to my hip or something." She would have made a lewder comment, but she wasn't feeling it. Her anger towards Siresh was starting to die down with the curiosity of this new place. Turning to the man at the bar, she laughed. "We're not friends. We're very far from friends. But that's not really want I want to talk about here. More so, maybe a question for you. Apparently, I tend to get blackout drunk. It's happened one time before but I want to know if I've been in here before. The name is Daniel Olsen. It would help me out a lot if you could tell me if you've seen me before."

She knew she never came in here before. But she wasn't asking about herself. Daniel's last name wasn't Olsen if truth be told. Her name wasn't Daniel Olsen either. But there was a guy running around named Daniel with her face. The exact same face. Not that it was a bad thing. After all, it was him that she was trying to find so desperately . It was him that caused her and Siresh to move to this city in the first place. Regardless, she waited to see what he had to say. Maybe she'd get lucky. Likely he'd say no.

Siresh was actually half astonished that he didn't get strange looks for ordering such a drink. Well, awesome. Good tipping was in order by the end of the night. The Scotsman had their drinks out in a skillful flash and what's more? Gave them a good shot of Scottish whiskey to go along with it, on him. What a guy. Siresh paid no mind to Jasmine's glaring as he happily drank the scotch down like a pro. He used to party a lot in college believe it or not. Not with friends or peers, but he was quite popular at this one venue he used to work out of. Yeah, years ago now. Hardly even worth thinking about it, but the point was that he could chug down a drink like a fucking animal. Of course, the shot was nothing impressive until he picked up the martini glass and drank that down like an uncultured and classless buffoon also. The glass was placed down with a hardy thud and a refreshed sigh. "Really good stuff there, friend. I'd love to see what you can do with a Long Island." And he ordered his usual so that Jasmine didn't feel obligated to intrude her horrible ideas on him, as she was beginning to make a habit of apparently.

Siresh kept an ear to Jasmine as she now discussed her business with the staff, but his eyes wandered around to take in their surroundings. "Yeah, he loves to suck me off in the bathroom when we've both had too many. Watch yourselves." Always so brash and so rude. It was the truth though. It was a fresh wound though and he wasn't going to let her get away with it the last time or let her get away with it again. Fuck her and her face. But just not literally. Not again. Siresh actually got pissed off then, out of no where and needed to get himself away from her. She could talk Daniel all fucking day but she was never going to fucking find him. Not now that Siresh watched him get shot and killed. The tiger noped the fuck out of there, over to someone else and made sure to sit right next to them. Not only because he was a man that didn't adhere to laws of personal space and boundaries, but also because this young woman seemed like someone perfect for his next trick.

"I don't think I've seen you around here before." He meant the city, not just the obviously fairly recent establishment. "Can I buy you a drink? It'd be an honor and a pleasure, miss." He was careful not to be too formal of course. It was just a bar setting after all.

Calum couldn’t help but laugh at the two so called “not friends”

“Ya sure? Cause from where I’m standing it looks like the two o’you could use a good ol’ romp in-“ Dante glanced up towards Calum, who stopped. A small sigh escaped Calum’s lips. “But uh… That’s not what you’re here for huh? Sorry boss, didn’t mean to get me mouth flappin’ so much.”

Dante smiled softly, shaking his head. “No apologies needed.” His voice calm and deep, but carrying a sort of bite to every syllable. Dante’s light eyes now looked back to their ivory haired guest, listening to her questions, mentioning something about possibly stumbling in here once or twice before. Dante thought for a moment, his finger gently tapped the surface of the bar. “What an odd line of questioning.” He grinned, grabbing a bottle of dark rum from behind the counter he filled a thin Collins glass with ice, gently he poured in a freshly popped can of ginger beer and then topped it off with a healthy flow of deeply colored rum, followed by a quick spray of lime. He stirred the drink three times before placing it in front of Jasmine. “Dark and Stormy. For a dark and mysterious question.” He knew she hadn't ordered anything, but felt that she might like it. He leaned back, crossing his arms lightly over his chest. “But I’m afraid I can’t say I’ve ever seen you in here before. Such a shame really, I imagine you’d bring a whole new sort of light into this establishment.”

Rounding back around the bar came Calum, the red head looked at Siresh and the new woman who sat at the bar. “Well if the two o’you decide to make a mess of the bathroom know that you’ll be the ones ta clean it up.” He had overheard Siresh’s order before he took a few more, a Long Island… Looks like someone wasn’t messing around with their drink orders tonight. “Yessir.” In a swift motion he pulled the bottles from the shelf, pouring two at a time in quick succession he filled another tall Collins glass with them, then ice and simple syrup and finally topped off the drink with a splash of cola and lime. “Long Island Iced Tea.” He said putting the drink in front of Siresh. He wiped his hands down on his apron as he checked the new girl’s ID. Nodding at it he put his hands on his hips, smiling a wide charming smile. “What can I get ya to start?” His accent coming through a bit more than usual.

From the steps in the corner came the rhythmic clack of high heels against wood. Ash slowly made her way down the steps, her form flawless, like a model walking down a runway for the thousandth time. She took a seat at the bar, crossing her legs before opening a small leather bound notebook and jotting something down with a thin calligraphy pen she pulled from the loose bun of hair on her head.



~~~~~~ Reference Links ~~~~~~

Dark and Stormy

Long Island Iced Tea