(no subject)

[the_cupbearer]

There is, in the bar, an immortal. He's currently lounging on a couch with a glass and a leatherbound folder of photographs. Some are more risqué than others, though none at the moment are completely inappropriate; right now it's just an idle study of what the pictures look like before he takes any more. Apparently, he's found a pleasant enough job in modeling.

There is a small grey cat, too, playing with one of the strings hanging off his hooded sweatshirt, much to Ganymede's amusement. He sets the folder aside, not bothering to close it as he shifts to play with the little feline.