Who: Malcolm and Castor Where: The Docks When: Week 13, December 22nd. What: a business deal Rating: PG-13, for Mal's mouth. Status: Closed | In Progress
"Another?"
Mal's eyes stared ahead, into the depths of the reflecting light off the only mildly-cleaned glass, thumb slowly working its way around the rim, rubbing at the dirt spots, fingers wrapped around it, clutching it in a thoughtful way, working fingers in slow circles and massaged against it. His mind was elsewhere, he wasn't even aware of the glass in hand, the sounds around him, or the sounds of the classic rock that filled the halls, or the bustling speeches taken around him, the long-repeated conversations between the old shipwrights and their crews, recanting stories told again and again.
"Another?" The voice pierced Mal's subconscious this time, and the old cowboy of the sea looked up to the man ahead of him, across stained and chipped bar counter to the old man behind the bar, turned up a brow at the tatted up veteran, taking a moment to get reacquainted to what the man was asking for, then gestured towards the glass with a simple nod and his glass was refilled. Lifting it up, he took a drink from the amber liquid and let it burn a trail into his gullet. This was his home away from home, the place a frequented excursion. It gave him jobs more often than not, but more importantly it allowed him to keep his head low from the law.
Both arms rested atop the counter, fingers clutching, and ignoring the conversations building around him; some around him were supernaturals, some humans, some slaves, some escaped slaves, some even Masters. Nearly most of the people here were formers of some sort, or just needed an escape from their lot in life, and it was an unwritten rule here that your problems outside of the walls were left outside. Some even hated each other here, some didn't care, some knew, some didn't, but while in the wall they were all under the same code--don't fuck with anything, or anyone.
A long drink was taken from his glass, eyes moving back to the counter as he allowed himself trail off into his own thoughts.