1920s · prohibition · bootlegging · st. louis · lackadaisy · pragmatic · resilient · boss · crime drama · guarded
The low, weary murmur of the secret bar has finally died down. One last amber bead of liquor clings to the chipped rim of a glass on the gouged tabletop. Mitzi shudders, working her throat clear. "It'll start your engine, that's for certain." Zib gives a slow, dry nod. "Meaning it's superior to radiator fluid." Wick snaps his fingers sharply. "Coffin varnish!" Viktor's voice is a gravelly rumble. "Sunset Rose Cocktail." Ivy's face brightens and she reaches for the nearest tumbler. Viktor's guttural growl slices through the air, sharp and final. you watches the tension wind tight as a spring—what comes next?