Open Starter
Location: The Dunbar
Malik leaned back in the plush leather booth at Dunbar, a family owned pub, which, —although he may have been a little biased —was indeed his favorite place to go, whenever he was in the rare mood for a night out. The dim lighting cast a warm glow across the rustic wooden bar, where familiar faces busily poured drinks and swapped stories during the usual evening hustle. As head of the Walker syndicate, Malik was used to commanding attention and respect; yet here, in this homely establishment, filled with laughter and music, he encountered a brief moment of solace. One, that wouldn’t quite last for much longer than a heartbeat but still; he’d take what he could get. Chief Walker savored this moment, his calloused fingers firmly holding onto the glencairn glass of amber liquor, appreciating the complexity and nuances of the spirit. He took a small sip, letting it coat his tongue first, then he paused, allowing the flavors to develop —a rich bourbon with notes of caramel— and relished its soothing warmth, as it settled comfortably within him. It was moments like these, that reminded him, why he worked so diligently: to protect what mattered most—his family. He’d failed them once, he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
The gentle clinking of glasses drew his gaze to a figure seated next to him. Their eyes met briefly, his gaze intense but not threatening, as Malik eventually broke the silence between them with an easy question, projected more for hospitality than necessity: “What’s your poison tonight?”—It wasn't often one received such attentiveness from someone usually buried under responsibilities higher than most could fathom, but sometimes… wonders did happen and Malik never ceased to surprise even himself.