You wish you felt better

[fistdownthroat]

WHO: Hugo, Griffin, and anyone else who wants to join in on the fun! Tag yourselves in.
WHERE: Nadine, Hugo's bar in Brooklyn
DATE: April 18, 1936
WARNINGS: Cursing and violence
SUMMARY: Welcome to Nadine, the most intense bar in New York.
STATUS: Open, incomplete

Comments

[limitedrun]

Although Griffin didn't really drink prior to dying, he knew enough about New York City's bars. The men he tended to do business with always did it over a drink. Different bars offered different things. As Griffin got himself more acquainted with alcohol, he decided his normal type of bar would be more like the places he took Murphy to last week. It was loud and rough and capable of handling drunks like him

[fistdownthroat]

Hugo looked up from cleaning the glass when someone entered the bar. He watched the man quietly and carefully. He had seen this face around once or twice; he never forgot a face. Hugo went back to the glass as he made his way to the bar. His order fell on seemingly deaf ears as Hugo took his time cleaning the glass. Once the smudge had disappeared, he put the glass back on the shelf underneath the counter. He was going to grab another tumbler; he had just cleaned that one.

He put it on the bar before reaching behind him and grabbing the whiskey bottle. Hugo unscrewed the cap with one twist of his hand before taking it off completely. He poured the alcohol in the glass about a quarter of the way up before screwing the cap back on. Hugo then handed it to the man.

He remained quiet through the entire thing.

[limitedrun]

Griffin knew he was being watched as he went in. He hated that feeling. Still, he'd take that over getting beat up. Again. The young Englishman waited while Hugo cleaned the glass. His blank expression fell more and more into a frown as time passed. Griffin had just opened his mouth to say something when Hugo grabbed the whiskey bottle. It was a good thing; Griffin wasn't looking to get on the wrong end of a steel pipe. Or a bat. Or a knife. Or any of the weapons Hugo was rumored to use.

He accepted the glass just as silently. Griffin raised it in thanks before taking in a mouthful of whiskey. He coughed and had to put the glass down to compose himself. However, it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been with the Poitin, or even the Irish whiskey. Griffin was improving. Take that, you mick asshole.

[fistdownthroat]

It was none of Hugo's business, but he his brow arched when Griffin choked slightly on the whiskey. He sighed out of annoyance. He didn't understand why these barely legals came into bars to try their parents' stuff. "Whiskey isn't for little boys," Hugo finally commented. Though, the little boy was lucky he didn't spit any of it up on the counter. He waxed it down this morning.

[limitedrun]

Griffin gave Hugo what could only be described as a stink-eye after his comment. It was remarks like that which made Griffin want to get more accustomed to drink in the first place. "Good thing I'm not a little boy then," was his response. Most of the time, his youthful appearance worked to his advantage. But it was moments like now when it was just irritating.