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(Setting) Portly Locksmith Pub
| Hah
| (Shit)
> A large man printed upon a red sign drinking a twice as large bottle is the only way of identifying this bar, as it sits justly between two large apartment complexes. A lone bartender tends to the empty rooms.
| > In through the doors, come a young blonde, shaking lightly due to her weakness. She bears an exoskeleton over her clothes-simple jeans and longsleeve shirt-but nonetheless maneuvers just fine. She seats herself at the counter, awaiting to be treated without word.
|
| "What can I get you?"
> The bartender turns to the blonde. Her short raven hair and sleepy red eyes complete the look of the pub.
| "Lots of karmotrine."
> The blonde rests her head against the counter, depression his obvious all across her.
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