Well, if he wants to flirt with Vander he'll have to be a little more clear than that, as Vander doesn't ascribe the word 'beautiful' to himself ever, so thinks nothing of it.
After finishing his vigorous shaking: "An art dealer, eh? What exactly does an art dealer do? Sell paintings?"
Clearly, Hugo has taste-- evidenced by the lighter and his personal style. Him liking Vander is incidental.
He sets up a glass with ice and a lime wedge and strains the cocktail into it, then slides it toward Hugo.
“Paintings, sculptures, jewelry—just about anything that could be called ‘art’, really. I once sold a gown that had been worn by a celebrity where I’m from, so the wares tends to be broad.”
With an appreciative tip of his head, he takes the drink, though he finishes up his explanation before sampling it.
“Though, admittedly, it’s just complicated money laundering and tax evasion, more often than not. Alas, the rich don’t have nearly as much interest in the art as I do.”
Hugo huffs out a little note of a laugh when he’s perfectly honest about the profession. He’d never been so candid about it before, even when he knew perfectly well that half of the things he sold would simply go into storage to never be seen. It didn’t seem so important now, though.
He gladly takes a drink of the cocktail, and after taking a moment to savor it, he tips the glass Vander’s way.
“—Clever, by the way. It’s a good substitute, so I must thank you for your artistry~” he says, maybe teasing, maybe not, but he sets the glass back down. He’ll savor it, since the conversation is the main draw. “And you? You seem comfortable behind the bar, so was that your work at home too?”
Vander hums thoughtfully, then mirrors that huff of a laugh about the money laundering.
"The rich are the same anywhere you go, I guess." Corrupt. Fake. Strategizing for their own gain.
He watches Hugo as he drinks, measuring his reaction. Not that he expects applause, but he does want to make sure he's satisfied. And it seems so. He chuckles, soft and warm, and gives him a wink.
"No problem. Where I'm from the food supply is just as limited, so you learn to make do." Which is true, but really, it's a trick most bartenders know. Even if you're in a rich area, working with eggs can be a pain, or can introduce unwanted bacteria.
"It was. When I was young I worked in the mines, but after that I owned a bar for over a decade. The Last Drop."
“Exactly so. Or, at least so far as I’ve seen. I’m only working with a sample size of two, but,” he says with a sly little laugh and a shrug. He expects that the rich are the rich, no matter the world. It’s a character problem, after all. He hasn’t seen anything about Karteria that would imply that they would have overcome it.
And though he’s interested in the fact that Vander is also from a place that seems to be struggling, he doesn’t actually want the conversation to turn that serious this quickly. He’d come by for a casual visit, after all. The topic of a bar is much more fun, so while there’s something thoughtful and sympathetic in Hugo’s expression briefly, it brightens at the bar’s name especially.
“I like the name. A bar with a play on words already has my heart. So, two questions about it. One, what was the favorite drink? And two—” He tosses Vander a playful little wink, “Would I look as out of place there as I do here?”
"Our house ale was pretty popular. Zaunites aren't a fancy bunch. And there were all types of moonshine down there. Some I brewed myself." He smiles, innocent with just a hint of deviousness. "And 'fraid to say, with that sharp suit and shiny briefcase, you'd probably get mugged before you even stepped foot in my bar. Not to worry, though, I'd give you a freebie." He winks.
Hugo nods agreeably, since a local ale or moonshine sounds fun to him, but the thought is interrupted with a laugh as Vander continues. With a playful, dramatic air, he places a hand on his chest with a faux-scandalized gasp.
“Mugged? Before I even made it to your door? Why, Vander, I worry about just where your fine establishment was with such a welcoming party…” he teases, but he also leans more comfortably on the bar in turn. It’s all perfectly good-natured, and he’s also unbothered by the prospect, clearly. His voice tilts just a little quieter, since it’s not good to brag about this too openly.
“Then, between the two of us, it’s good that I’m a more difficult target for a mugging than I look, hm?” Mysterious, perhaps, since there’s nothing about Hugo that really implies a combat prowess, and yet. He keeps the details secret, since the mystery is the fun part in the first place. “…Though I would take that freebie all the same, though.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2025-08-30 03:11 am (UTC)After finishing his vigorous shaking: "An art dealer, eh? What exactly does an art dealer do? Sell paintings?"
Clearly, Hugo has taste-- evidenced by the lighter and his personal style. Him liking Vander is incidental.
He sets up a glass with ice and a lime wedge and strains the cocktail into it, then slides it toward Hugo.
no subject
Date: 2025-09-03 04:27 pm (UTC)With an appreciative tip of his head, he takes the drink, though he finishes up his explanation before sampling it.
“Though, admittedly, it’s just complicated money laundering and tax evasion, more often than not. Alas, the rich don’t have nearly as much interest in the art as I do.”
Hugo huffs out a little note of a laugh when he’s perfectly honest about the profession. He’d never been so candid about it before, even when he knew perfectly well that half of the things he sold would simply go into storage to never be seen. It didn’t seem so important now, though.
He gladly takes a drink of the cocktail, and after taking a moment to savor it, he tips the glass Vander’s way.
“—Clever, by the way. It’s a good substitute, so I must thank you for your artistry~” he says, maybe teasing, maybe not, but he sets the glass back down. He’ll savor it, since the conversation is the main draw. “And you? You seem comfortable behind the bar, so was that your work at home too?”
no subject
Date: 2025-09-06 05:48 am (UTC)"The rich are the same anywhere you go, I guess." Corrupt. Fake. Strategizing for their own gain.
He watches Hugo as he drinks, measuring his reaction. Not that he expects applause, but he does want to make sure he's satisfied. And it seems so. He chuckles, soft and warm, and gives him a wink.
"No problem. Where I'm from the food supply is just as limited, so you learn to make do." Which is true, but really, it's a trick most bartenders know. Even if you're in a rich area, working with eggs can be a pain, or can introduce unwanted bacteria.
"It was. When I was young I worked in the mines, but after that I owned a bar for over a decade. The Last Drop."
no subject
Date: 2025-09-12 06:26 pm (UTC)And though he’s interested in the fact that Vander is also from a place that seems to be struggling, he doesn’t actually want the conversation to turn that serious this quickly. He’d come by for a casual visit, after all. The topic of a bar is much more fun, so while there’s something thoughtful and sympathetic in Hugo’s expression briefly, it brightens at the bar’s name especially.
“I like the name. A bar with a play on words already has my heart. So, two questions about it. One, what was the favorite drink? And two—” He tosses Vander a playful little wink, “Would I look as out of place there as I do here?”
no subject
Date: 2025-09-20 05:19 am (UTC)He laughs at the second question, in particular.
"Our house ale was pretty popular. Zaunites aren't a fancy bunch. And there were all types of moonshine down there. Some I brewed myself." He smiles, innocent with just a hint of deviousness. "And 'fraid to say, with that sharp suit and shiny briefcase, you'd probably get mugged before you even stepped foot in my bar. Not to worry, though, I'd give you a freebie." He winks.
no subject
Date: 2025-09-22 06:04 pm (UTC)“Mugged? Before I even made it to your door? Why, Vander, I worry about just where your fine establishment was with such a welcoming party…” he teases, but he also leans more comfortably on the bar in turn. It’s all perfectly good-natured, and he’s also unbothered by the prospect, clearly. His voice tilts just a little quieter, since it’s not good to brag about this too openly.
“Then, between the two of us, it’s good that I’m a more difficult target for a mugging than I look, hm?” Mysterious, perhaps, since there’s nothing about Hugo that really implies a combat prowess, and yet. He keeps the details secret, since the mystery is the fun part in the first place. “…Though I would take that freebie all the same, though.”