"Sorry 'bout that, bub." She quickly replied without even looking.
Her mind was in a fumble and she was thinking of how she wanted to be at her destination to put her thoughts into order.
Flying from the Omegas non-stop, all she wanted now was a good drink and some solid food in her stomach.
She entered the bar and looked at the faces. None she would remember and none that she knew.
With a quick step, she approached the counter and signaled the bartender.
"You got Jack Daniels? If so, pour me some and leave the bottle. Gimme the menu if you have somethin' to bite as well."
She eyed the bar as the bartender went away. It has been a while since she was here.
Last time it was with Nancy, discussing her future.
"Diferent days. Diferent life. Diferent Sirius."
She whispered to herself while she waited for the bartender to come back with her order.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
Pygmy strides into the room, a short man standing only around 5'4". He glances around at the various folk enjoying their drinks and exchanging in conversations, some innocent, some disguised to be innocent.
Nodding at one of his old friends, a silent acknowledgement, he steps over to the coat rack in the corner by the door and takes off his dirty obviously second-hand flight jacket to reveal even dirtier garments under it. Covered in various layers of soot, engine oil, and smelling like he just stepped out of the fuel storage in his Waran, he steps over to the bar and slides a stool out. He glances over at the bartender, speaking in a raspy but cheerful voice.
"Usual fer me, Tim."
The bartender nods, and moves to prepare his drink that'd probably be more suited to the task of dissolving melted plastic off of pavement. As he's doing that, Pygmy hops up onto the bar-stool with a little bit of a struggle. Glancing around as he waits, he notices a woman sitting alone, enjoying some whiskey.
"That stuff'll bite ye' in the rear right quick, Tim o'er there likes t'put little extra 'n the pretty women's drinks."
He nods to the bartender, chuckling a bit and attempting to wipe some of the soot from under his eyes but failing miserably and just ending up looking like he did a really lousy job putting eye-liner on. He sits up, raising an eyebrow at her.
"So, what brings ye' 'ere? We don't get lot's 'o new visitors out 'ere."
Her eyes inspected the bottom of the glass and decided to pour some more.
As the liquid gently trickled in the glass, she looked at the very dirty man that was some stools away.
"Death brings me here, love."
And with that, she gulped the entire contents of the glass in one go.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
Pygmy glances over at her, silent. Finally, he speaks up after shifting his weight around on the stool trying to find a comfortable position.
"Death brought ye' t'a zoner base, missy? Ain't a 'ole lotta death 'round 'ere, 'ess ye' came t'escape it."
He glances at Tim who finally finished fixing his drink. He holds a hand out for it, taking it from Tim and staring at it for a while, watching all the various densities of alcoholic beverages make a rainbow of different amber-brown hues. He tips it back, swallowing all but a small portion.
"Bet ye' twenty credits ye' can't take that wit'a straight face."
He slides it over to her, grinning and continuing.
"Special blend Tim makes fer me, two shots an' ye'll wake up in bed wit'a Kusarian, tell you what."
He grins even wider, bursting out in laughter and gestures for her to drink it.
After returning from a 'journey' through the Omicrons, a black haired, young woman entered the Rouge, looking for some time to relax. After all it had been longer than a day without any sleep. Not as if the part of space she visited didn't keep her awake by just being the place it is.
Searching for a stool a bit away from other people in the bar, she eventually found one and sat down, somewhat relieved the seat wasn't the one of the cockpit, at least for the moment being. She looked around if she'd know anyone, but there was nobody who'd seem to be known to her. The girl ordered a glass of scotch, as well as a glass of water, wondering what she could do else in the time she was here.
A young man with a long coat entered the bar, smoking a cardamine joint under his old fashioned gray cowboy hat. The red tint of the dim light shone onto his face for a split second as he walked towards an empty table, showing a scar along his right eye and cheek. In his hand a PDA, he was checking through the contents of the screen rather bored. He threw it onto the table as he sat.
"Frickin' Liberty is dead..." he mumbled to himself. He put one of his legs onto the table and raised his finger to signal for a drink. "Goddamn... I miss that IC chick and the way she paid."
He scanned his surroundings, puffing out some smoke. Two pretties were close. He winked at the dark haired girl as she looked around, she appeared to be a shy one. Then checked out the flashy one from head to toe who was biting on a sandwich with a bottle of Jack Daniel's.
'Hell... She's hot!' he thought, with nothing else to bother his thoughts with. His sight touched on his PDA's screen afterwards... another hot chick was there on the front page of the board. 'Silver Reaver' it said... '15.000.000 SC for her head' it said... They looked really alike.
"The hell..." he puffed another smoke cloud towards her direction.
The young woman sighed and took her glass of scotch as the bartender placed both her orders onto the counter, sipping from it. The familiar taste of the alcohol let her relax a bit more as the glass had been emptied by the half already.
Only hearing some inaudible words coming from the direction where that odd man was sitting, she glanced over the counter, at the woman sitting there, sounding something rather quietly as she assumed the woman had been taken notice of the new guy.
"All the same wannabe-checkers, huh..?"She said with her head shook but wearing a small smirk, finding it funny to meet guys like that all the time.
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