Bar Banter
Roleplaying Log: Bar Banter
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Clint Barton stops by Luke's for a drink.

Other Characters Referenced: Jessica Jones
IC Date: February 01, 2019
IC Location: Luke's Bar
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 02 Feb 2019 06:08
Rating & Warnings: G
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

* * *

Friday night turns into the Bridge and Tunnel crowd, and Luke's Bar in Harlem is no exception after it's made its comeback. The regulars are few and far between, replaced by those set to party and blow their paychecks. Even though it's busy, there are only two bartenders behind the bar and judging by the occasional food item that comes out from the back, there is a cook somewhere behind the scenes as well.

One of the bartenders, a big black man with a bald head, seems to be in charge as he sends an older gentleman off to the back to grab another bottle of something or other with a polite, "Thanks, man." Before returning to mixing drinks.

* * *

The door opens and it's someone that Luke may or may not have seen before, but he walks with a bit of a more confident-than-most gait. He wears a simple leather jacket and a t-shirt underneath, with gloves on his hands and blue jeans. He does wear boots on his feet, which only make his footsteps more pronounced.

This is also a bar….is this about to become one of those damned Clint Eastwood types?

But no, Clint casually removes his gloves and walks up to the bar, taking his seat and waiting for Luke to come his way. He heard good things about this bar, and he hopes the drinks are good.

* * *

Luke makes a trip to the till before he ambles Clint's way, flipping a towel over his shoulder as he walks. "Hey, man," - apparently everyone is 'man' or 'ma'am' - "What can I getcha?" It's standard bar greeting, and even as he waits for Clint to orders something, he's pulling a beer from the tap. His eyes flick around the room, making sure no one else is also trying to get his attention. "Your luck you found a stool, that's prime real estate on a Friday night." He serves the beer two seats over, and then flicks out a coaster in front of Clint.

* * *

Clint looks up to the much taller and darker fellow, and actually seems to smile a friendly way for him. "Hey pal. A whiskey will do…and no kidding. I'd be surprised if anyone was as lucky as me to find a seat in a bar ANYWHERE." he chuckles then. "You got a name pal?"

Because Clint was just too friendly for his own good.

Not to mention, he figures it's better to make friends with the bartender, rather than risk getting off on the wrong foot. Even bartenders can spit in the beers of patrons.

* * *

Flair bartending is not Luke's forte, he's direct and efficient with the way he picks up the bottle and flips it to fill a rocks glass with the straight whiskey and sets it in front of Clint with zero fan fare. People don't come here for the trendy new thing. Then he reaches across the bar with a giant paw of a hand, "Luke Cage, welcome to my bar. If you're hungry, let me know, I'll grab you a menu. Live around here?"

* * *

Clint was always one for the dramatic, but he's not exactly disappointed when Luke brings him his drink in a very simple and effective way. Nice and Clean. Perfection and something to admire in and of itself. he chuckles then. "Nice to meet you Luke." he sips his drink. "Name's Clint. Clint Barton. Nice bar ya got here, is the food as good as this Whiskey?"

Question is asked, and the question will be answered. "Eh, I live a ways down the street. More in Brooklyn, but I heard how good this place was and decided to check it out."

* * *

There is a warm chuckle of laughter from Luke that vibrates deep in his chest, "Brooklyn is a bit more than down the street, but glad you made the trip. Now I can claim I'm a destination bar." He flips out a white half page menu that's just standard bar fare, and like the rest of the place, it's nothing fancy but it's comfortable. Cage turns away only to print out a ticket, starting a tab for Clint that he folds into a shot glass and sits it in front of his spot at the bar.

He has to keep working, filling other drink orders, but he returns to where the conversation is. "So whaddya do, big man?"

* * *

Clint just laughs a little bit then, before he takes another big gulp of his whiskey, accepting the food menu. "Oh damn, you serve wings here? Hell yeah." Clint looks ecstatic about that! but he looks to Cage, nodding appreciatively as a tab is opened. Might as well!

"Oh, I work a little bit here and there." he won't reveal that he's the bowman cleaning up the streets, or helping to do so. "Mainly though? In the investigation business."

* * *

The order for wings can wait for a minute, as something Clint says sparks Luke's genuine interest as opposed to just run of the mill patron banter, "Oh yeah? The investigation business." Luke repeats, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the bar with a slight turn that leaves his field of vision open to the rest of the bar. "You a licensed PI and everything? My girl is in the biz."

* * *

Clint seems to smile to Luke. Yeah, something like that…right? Clint just smiles. "Of course, of course." SHIELD agent and Avenger? kinda gives him a right to investigate what should be investigated. But he actually DOES havea PI license to aid his cover. "Really? That must make things interesting. SHe always investigating you?"

Clearly the question is done in good humor and not meant to be demeaning to Luke's girlfriend or to him. He's just genuinely trying to be humorous.

* * *

"How do you think we met?" Luke answers the question with a broad grin, his voice tinted with humor like they just shared an inside joke. He raps his knuckles on the bar, "Right, wings. How many and what kind of sauce? Mild, medium, or hot?" He's straightening up from his lean, giving an up-nod to another patron to acknowledge he sees them trying to flag him.

* * *

Clint just couldn't help but let out a bit of a laugh. Hey, the big guy made a pretty strong point. "Touche, my friend. Touche." he takes a sip of his drink. "I'll take six wings with Mild sauce." not too spicy, but spicy. the happy medium that makes everything else quite happy.

Clint just stays seated, giving a smile. "So…I take it your girl is damn good at what she does? I might have to say hi. I could use a hand with a job."

* * *

Luke goes to the register again, using the touch screen to tap in Clint's order for the kitchen in the back. "She runs Alias Investigations in Hell's Kitchen, but she's slammed right now." He turns back to the bar, using a scoop to fill a shaker with ice. "You can always leave her a message though, gimme a sec and I'll grab a card for you." Several liquors and a fruit juice are added before he shakes the entire concoction up and divides it into four shot glasses which he delivers to the end of the bar. As promised, a business card is procured and flipped over to Clint with the name Jessica Jones on it.

* * *

"Oh really?" Clint asks curiously. A name. Alias investigations! "Well thanks Luke, I appreciate it." he gets the card and he looks it over front and back, humming as he seems to memorize the entire thing, before he pockets it. "Jessica Jones, huh? I'll look into it. Thanks again."

He downs his drink and orders another. "So, how long you been a bartender?"

* * *

"Sure, man. No problem. All I did was give you a card. The rest is between you and her. I'm a smart man, I don't meddle in her business." Instead of just refilling Clint's glass, he gives him a clean one and puts the other in the sink, busying himself with wiping down the drink rail because he can talk and work at the same time. "Not too long, last coupla years. The place burned down last January and it took a while to rebuild so there was a hiatus where I did odd jobs to keep busy."

* * *

Clint just chuckles. "True, but I wouldn't know where or how to get some much-needed help without ya." Clint winks at Luke, before he hums. "smart, smart man." Clint admires Luke's wisdom in that instance, smiling as he learns more about Luke Cage.

"Sorry to hear about the old joint. But it looks like ya rebuilt it better than ever. place is popping. Either that, or it's just cuz the ladies like the bartender." he teases.

* * *

"Hey, I know what side of my bread gets the butter, if you know what I mean." Luke flips the towel over his shoulder again, an easy and practiced move that he does dozens of times a day. It's clear this is his home just as much as any apartment he could be living in. "Let me go check on those wings."

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