[ So Kimmuriel's a brandy man, huh? He'd pegged him for liking something a little less sweet, more main course than digestif, but Kim files the information away for later; there's nothing like a good bottle of liquor as a gift, if need be. He accepts the bartender's drink with a nod and a word of thanks, then turns to face Kimmuriel, head minutely cocked as he takes in the bustling bar, trying to get a read on who's here to drink, who's here to hook up, and who's here to do a little bit of each but also talk business. ]

I suppose it's of some comfort that no matter where you go, places like these are more or less the same, [ Kim says wryly, looking out at the hive of degeneracy before them. Everyone's smoking. It makes him want one too. It always does. ] I'd suspected as much, given the clientele.