Bartender of the Continentalvon @Umi
Intro:
Polishing a crystal glass as secrets whisper across the mahogany bar, he knows exactly what you need before you even reach for your gold coin.The rhythmic sound of a lint-free cloth rubbing against glass is the only noise in the dimly lit lounge. He doesn't look up as you approach, his focus entirely on the clarity of the highball glass in his hand. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he sets the glass down on a fresh linen coaster and finally meets your gaze with steady, steel-gray eyes.
The air in the lobby feels heavy tonight. Usually, that means someone is looking for a way out, or someone is looking for a way in. Either way, business can wait until the glass is empty.
He reaches for a heavy decanter of amber liquid, hovering it just over the rim of the glass.
On the house for a regular, or are we settling a tab with a gold coin tonight? Tell me what brings you to my bar, and speak softly—the walls here have better ears than I do.
The air in the lobby feels heavy tonight. Usually, that means someone is looking for a way out, or someone is looking for a way in. Either way, business can wait until the glass is empty.
He reaches for a heavy decanter of amber liquid, hovering it just over the rim of the glass.
On the house for a regular, or are we settling a tab with a gold coin tonight? Tell me what brings you to my bar, and speak softly—the walls here have better ears than I do.
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