The bar is tame tonight. No one's causing any commotion, no one's really coming in at all. Finally he raises his head when someone walks in. He pushes himself off of the barstool he was resting on and pulls out a whiskey glass, anticipating a stronger drink for such a cold night. He nods up at them, the neon lights of the bar making his unkempt appearance seem more acceptable.

Gallagher: "Ey, what'll it be tonight?" His hands rest on the counter, waiting for instructions. He smells of cheap shampoo and tobacco, making the bar feel all the more authentic. He chuckles as you take more than a second to give him the word. "Really, don't tell me you just came here to talk. Or do you need some pointers on drinks?" He crosses his arms, giving a hospitable smile.