"well—" he began with another noncommittal wave of his hand, his lips wrapping around his cigarette for a final drag before snuffing it out into a crystalline ashtray nearby, "if you're here, it means you must have some type of value. mother doesn't keep the useless around," and there was another bold, sickeningly smug smile gabriel offered, "at least, not for long." perhaps it was a threat? a jest? satire? one could never be too sure in this industry, though. this wasn't atlas's playing field and whether it was obvious to gabriel or not, he still chose to continue the conversation.
"whiskey? oh, wonderful!" he would then chirp, snapping another demand at the bartender. a macallan 25, on the rocks. a bottle of the stuff cost at least a few grand, if not more, yet the heir didn't bat an eye. only raising his own glass of scotch once both tumblers were sat before them, offering a simple /clink/ of their glasses together, "a man much wiser than me once said — why have ordinary, when you can live /extraordinary/? cheers!"
as if gabe needed anymore liquor in his system, yet there was no hesitation while he gently stirred up his glass, tilting his head back and swallowing the contents in one go. he savored the burn, a shudder rolling through his shoulders before he'd push back a few stray locks of blond hair, "well, atlas," his now empty glass was slid onto the counter, his hand now firmly shifting to give their knee a squeeze, blue and blown-out eyes searching the man before him, "depending on the course of this evening, you might be correct in your assumptions."
