Want v. Need

Brief Title:

Ambrose, Hellstorm and Topaz

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:

Voodoo Lounge

Ambrose wants a drink, but Topaz doesn't comply, enter Hellstorm

Social or Plot:


==[ Voodoo Lounge - Greenwich Village ]==

One must descend a flight of black slate stairs flanked by walls papered in rock concert programs before discovering...

This is no ordinary urban mecca. This is no sports bar, no yuppie hipster watering hole. This... is the famed Voodoo Lounge.The lights are recessed into the wall, and of a golden hue, dimmed low enough that one can see where one is going, but still be able to consider the atmosphere intimate. People more than a dozen feet away will appear as mere shadows until one is right up on them. The walls are paneled in mahogany wood. The bar, that travels down the left side of the room is teak with a black marble top, polished to a fare-thee-well. Taps are visible just past the lip of the countertop. There's a recess in it so that a bartender can slide drinks to the waiting patrons. Behind the bar, the expected mirror -- this one beveled on the edges. Glasses and more elaborate drinkware hangs upside down from a wooden rack above.

The barstools appear to be leather and wood, but they are reinforced to handle patrons of superhuman size. The floor is carpeted in plush brown carpet, thick enough to sink into, though nothing seems to ever reach it if anything is spilled. There are cozy tables and booths clustered at the front and back of the room. A long, thickly stuffed leather sofa, also in brown, is along the entire front wall and side wall. A hidden moving light casts random shapes and sigils around the room in muted hues -- slowly enough so it's ambience-enhancing rather than disorienting. Potted palms flank the door and stand in the corners. There are hanging plants above the tables, leaves dripping lazily down toward the floor, but not enough to impede anyone there. Carefully hidden speakers pipe music into the room that varies from the contemporary to the exotic. There is no television behind the bar. The back wall has a floor-to-ceiling fountain that trickles away serenely. A few feet in front of the back wall is a modest stage, also set with small tables if there's no one performing.The entire vibe is like someone set a bar in a cozy little alcove in some exotic place far removed from New York City.


It's early evening and while the relatively newly opened (the last year) Voodoo Lounge is busy, it is not even half as packed as it will be come midnight. The patrons are mostly the afterwork crowd, getting a happy hour beverage before heading home. A couple of waitresses wander about, taking or delivering orders and a short, young indian woman and a older male tend the customers at the bar, where there is still some empty chairs. Despite it being busy it isn't overly noisy, though the customers talk amongst themselves and music is going.

A man with a three day old beard, thin as a stick and wearing worn but well kept clothes steps in. He pauses, staring almost vacantly before shaking it off. once his eyes had adjusted, he starts across the floor, weaving in between chairs. he looked unhappy to be here, almost ashamed as he slid onto a stool, folding his boney hands before him. He waited a full five seconds before starting to fidget, tapping silently on the bar repeatdly as he glanced anxiously up towards the bartender.

"Khush Aamdeed." (for those linguistically inclined it means welcome in Urdu) the young indian woman tells the newcomer, her speech accented. The bangles on her bracelets chime as she moves toward him. She exudes a peaceful, calming aura, which is quite infectous and washes over him, working its magic...because it is. She studies him for a moment then gives the briefest of nods "You will not get what you want here." she tells him then takes a highball glass and fills it with a light amber liquid from a tap "But perhaps you will get what you need." she sets a napkin on teh bar and places the glass down on it. It's gingerale.

Glancing over to the woman, Ambrose paused, confused a long moment. Then he dips his head "Shalom." was the only near-indian response he knew. He watched her, quite fixated on her now, before his eyes roved away - not to forbidden territory but simply unable to focus at all. He then raised an eyebrow, in a very vulcan like way. His body grew utterly still. Then his eyes dropped to the drink, and his face pulled down into a frown that made him seem even leaner "And how pray tell, do you know what your customers want... or need? " he asked ,more intrigued than anything.

The young woman raises a finger and shakes it as if saying no, no "Nahin. We have only just met laadla. I cannot be giving my trade secrets to perfect strangers." the gesture to him may be one thing, for her though it is a trigger for her innate empathic ability to focus, so she is better able to feel him out emotionally. She then gives a warm smile and brings the same finger down to tap the bar three times "Besides I have been working her long enough to know a man just out of the bottle when I see him."

Ambrose raises his other eyebrow to match at that, then they narrow, both of them. He smiles a little bit at that, nodding as he accepted, taking the drink "I suppose you would then. Bartender's secrets. Though on the other hand i'd have to ask what business is it of yours what I do? My money spends the same as others." he did not seem intend to argue. Merely challenge, and explore himself, his freewheeling mind settling a little now with something to occupy itsself.

"Why should I not care about my fellow human?" Topaz asks him, seemingly insulted that he would think she wouldn't care "I am not so ambivalent or cold." while she speaks to him she multi-tasks, making a drink here and there, though the other bartender seems to take up her slack without any complaint, either verbal or non-verbal. She shakes a hand toward him, the brings it to her chest, the braclets chiming against each other once more "I am Topaz." he will soon feel his anxiousness and need drain away to be replaced by a peaceful calm.

The man leaned back as the hand was pointed towards him at first. And then he relaxes. He blinks, and relaxed more. A glance to that cup again, almost as though suspicous of something. But he also examined her even more closely now. Without offering his own, he replies "Ambrose Smith. A jewel meets the nectar of the gods." a bit of a smile at this. A friendly smile "A pleasure. And again, you are right about that. Perhaps I'm just getting old and bitter about mankinds' empathy or lack thereof. " a lift of the ginger ale, for a toast.

"Pleasant to meet you Ambrose Smith." she gives a slight bow as she says it "I have excessive amounts of empathy. Some have told me it will be my undoing, but it has done nothing but serve me well." as he lifts his glass she takes one from behind the bar, seemingly filled with water, and does the same.

"Empathy can be a double edged sword like most other talents. It can be used for good, but also tempered with a lack of naiveness. " he sips the ginger ale once more, still watching her almost unblinkingly. Which probably did not help the redness of his eyes "But you are right so far. A lot of people seem to be able to read me very well. Makes me wonder if I give away more than I intend of my intentions."

Topaz sets the glass back down after her own sip, and places both hands palm down on the bar, "You wear your emotions and intentions openly." it is both a question and a statement. "There is nothing wrong with that. I am much the same.

"I do. " he repeats simply, nodding as he continues to observe "Well, i never tried to hide them I suppose. " he admits "Perhaps I should work on that a little bit... looks more professional eh? " he finishes the ginger ale, then grimaces "I suppose I need not admit my dissapointment in not even getting a weak alcoholic beverage, eh?"

Topaz shakes her head, causing more soft chiming noises, probably from the petite bells hanging from her earlobes "As I said earlier, you will not get want you want here, only what you need." she takes the now empty glass and moves down to place it in the sink "And you will get the same from the rest of my staff." she gestures to the other bartender and waitresses.

A shrug of defeat "Fair enough. Although I was hoping for a refill. Or some water at least?" he requests quietly. not happy, but one does not annoy the person who gets their drinks after all. "And thak you as well for helping me along... Its not been an easy... week? I think its been a week." he admits, scratching his head.

Slipping into the lounge, the ever dapper Daimon Hellstrom seems to have less on his mind than his previous encroachment upon these premises - or at least things that aren't as pressing. Sliding up to the bar, Hellstrom will take the stool two over from anyone else that happens to be in the area. He has eyes for Topaz, but says nothing until approached as it seems she's otherwise engaged.

Filling another glass with gingerale Topaz places it before Ambrose. "It is what I do." she tells him.

She is always aware of people coming and going and this is no exception when the well dressed man comes in. "Khush Aamdeed Hellstorm." she gives her welcoming smile as she sets a napkin on the bar before him "Two visits this week? I am honored. What can I get you?" this time she asks.

Ambrose nods "And you do it very well." he approves, and glances over his shoulder as Daimon arrives. He pauses, and nods politely to the other man as his conversation was interrupted. But he waited until she was done before continuing "What specifically do those words mean? I know it is a greeting of course..." he notes.

"Khush-Khush." returns Hellstrom with the hint of a devlish smile to the greeting from Topaz and will answer after her query, "I'll take Scotch, thank you." His attention then turns briefly to Ambrose, his nostrils flare and then smirks to himself before turning back to Topaz while remaining quiet.

Topaz laughs merrily as she is greeted in her own native tongue. "Thank you." she gives a nod to him (Ambrose) "Loosely translated it means welcome." she explains to Ambrose as she grabs a lowball glass and pours a double of her topshelf scotch into it. She makes it neat, there is no way she is going to ruin a good scotch by putting ice in it. "How do you fare this evening? she sets the drink in front of Hellstorm as she asks the question.

Ambrose ahhs and watches, almost jealously as the other man got a shot of actual alcohol. But he still doesnt complain as he looks at his ginger ale sadly, then back up once more, repeating the words awkwardly a few times, then gives up with a shrug "I'll stick to Latin I guess."

Hellstrom is given the glass and engaged with a question. As he fingers the lip of the glass, not drinking just yet, he answers, "Spendid." then queries in return looking toward the covetous Ambrose, "Who is your friend?"

"I am passable in Latin as well." Topaz asides to Ambrose, "As well as a number of other languages." which tends to be common in people from other countries. She then goes on to make introductions, gesturing between the two men. If she notices the non-verbal communication going around she doesn't make comment "This is Ambrose Smith." she tells Hellstorm, and does the opposite for Ambrose, as politeness calls for.

Ambrose nods "I cannot speak it fluently but I can identify most of the words enough to get by. That and English is all I know." he confesses, and waves to Hellstrom "Hello. A pleasure. Sorry, I dont shake hands but a pleasure indeed sir!" he notes, lifting his ginger ale.

His glass is also raised slightly, accompanied by a nod of greeting. Then, Hellstrom takes a drink and sits the glass down, watching the eyes of Ambrose to see if they have the slightest hint of following the drink.

While the two greet each other formally Topaz clears some glasses from the bar top, making a clean spot for other customers to come and sit. As soon as she does the empty spots are taken "Latin is not an easy language to master." she wipes some condensation off the bar, laughing softly at Ambrose's comment about it being a pleasure.

"No. I learned it if only to properly classify organisms into their appropriate places on the tree of life." admits Ambrose distractedly. His eyes did follow the glass, and he looked away, pointedly staring now at his ginger ale as he takes another swig "Where did you learn it? And what languages do you learn then, Daimon?"

Hellstrom sees the /in/ and casually he answers, "Languages? Oh, I don't know. A smattering of this, a touch of that." being either elusive or non-engaging in the conversation at hand as he now has direction:

In this he offers to Ambrose. "Would you like me to buy you a real drink? Scotch, whisky, burbon, perhaps a taste of gin of vodka?"

A feminine brown hand is put on the bar in front of Hellstorm "What you offer and what he gets, will not be the same." she warns having already told Ambrose earlier that he won't get getting anything alcoholic here.

Ambrose guestures to the woman "What she said. I've been cut off before I even started." he explains with a wry but sad smile "So ignore my puppy dog eyes and be a strong man." he puts the empty glass "I'm tired of ginger ale though for now. But thank you for the offer, Daimon. Smattering of which?" he asked, now focused on that question.

Disappointed, Hellstrom will shrug and will offer a consolation prize, "Well, if you're ever in the market for anything, I can get it for you. That said, I supposed your reluctance to surrender the dead languages topic indicates that if I do not submit an answer, you'll strike the inert horse once again. Let's see, Latin, Atlantean, Lemurian, a few Hypoborean, Italian, Deutch, Spanish, and of course English... I'm sure I forgot a few in there. Satisfied?"

Topaz gives Ambrose another studious look then goes about mixing a drink "Hyperborean? I could never master that one, besides what I need by neccesity." meaning outside of knowing a few words here and there as required by her former teachers she doesn't know it. She sets the drink in front of Ambrose, to replace the gingerale. It to is virgin, but it is more reminiscent of a cocktail than soda, even has the bite and burn. She also place a bowl of pretzels within reach.

"Never. But the answer is adequate. My reluctance is because there is still a community that uses latin quite frequently you know." points out Ambrose as he ponders what to order instead. "The scientific community, specifically biology. He picks up the drink and sniffs it, then nods "This smells good. I was thinking of coffee, but I will need to sleep sometime this month." he joked. then ohed "You ARE good."

Hellstrom needs not, nor does he feel the urge to comment on idle speculation or random layman's facts. Instead, he takes another drink, finishes the Scotch. Leaving a bill on the bar, Hellstrom stands and chooses to take his leave. "Now if you would excuse me..." is not a question, but a remark in regards to his departure from the socialization.

Topaz shrugs at Ambrose, not mentioning the cheat sheets under the bar..what he doesn't know. She shakes a finger at him again "Trade secrets." When Hellstorm gets up to leave she turns to toward him with a curious expression "Departing so soon?" she then gives a nod "Namaste Hellstorm.

Ambrose finishes the drink with a smile "All trades do." he pulls out some bills, and slides enough onto the counter for the drinks and then some. "I should be going as well. Thank you very much for... well, everything. " he states with a nod. "Wanted or not.

Collecting the money left on the bar Topaz hands it off to the other bartender "Ji." she says giving a slight nod in affirmation "Namaste to you, Ambrose Smith.

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