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[Setting] Artyomov & Hoshino's
| >The interior was a similar story, furnished top to bottom with rustic furniture, giving you a feeling like you had just walked back in time, which was then subsequently ruined by a very obviously holographic fireplace. (We're on the first floor, what did you expect?) Little booths lined the area across from the bar, and behind that bar stood a taller lady.
| >With blonde hair and bright yellow eyes, she wore the traditional attire of a bartender, a white shirt, suit pants, and a black vest with a tie loosely sticking out of it. With a mouth full of sharp teeth and a toothy grin, she gave off an air of both intimidation and friendliness.
| >A striking silhouette darkens the establishment's doorway, with shoulders broad and heels thinned to mere pinpoints. A body tapered like a blade. Odd shadows confuse: is this a trick of posture, or a feat of physiology?
"Oooh, how charming... I think I'll invite myself inside~"
>A shifting of stance dispels the illusion, she had crossed a leg over the other while waiting to enter. Proportions ease with a stride. Into the bar walks a slender woman sporting a fur trimmed capelet.
| >>993013
>The bartender stood behind the counter, her arms resting on it in a comfortable manner. As our first guest entered, the bartender's head perked up and turned to the sounds of the door's sensor chime. Her sharp smile widened as she began to wave the newcomer over.
"Hey! Welcome in, it's been a slow day, and the place is barren, so sit wherever you want."
>Her excitement was clear, she had obviously been waiting quite a while for this moment to come. A customer!
| >To the left side of a door was another blondie dressed in all black and sitting between two wooden chairs, their legs resting on the chair opposite themself. Arms crossed and head leaning down with a black stetson hat pulled down covering half of their face. On their hip sat an old-looking revolver, though it was no big iron, they were more modest than that.
>They seem to nod to the newcomer, though you can't quite be sure if it was just them nodding off in their sleep.
| >A pair of eyes look on to the storefront, thinking about the strange wood veneer. Not a common choice around here, he thinks as he re-directs from the local dive bar to the heavy doors.
>As he gets closer, he notices synth-wood, not veneer. It's a /swanky/ kinda place. He tucks his suit's shirt back in to the trousers, checking for any no-smoking signs as he does.
>Satisfied with his appearance, he heads inside, closing the door after himself and take a moment to look around.
| >>993095
>The man finds no such signs, he is free to smoke inside as he pleases. The sensor chime rings as he moves the door.
>The ever-excited bartender waves to him as she picks up on the sound of the bells.
"Good evening! Sit wherever you'd like."
| >>993096
>The man's eyes turn to the bartender's voice before he could turn his head, and does a polite nod. He heads to the bar, resuming his visual perusment of the interior.
"Thanks, is there a booth charge?"
>Lights reveal his sparce 5 o'clock shadow and aged hair, as John stands at the bar, looking at the bottles behind the bartender, trying to distract himself from the bartender's teeth.
| >>993104
>The girl waved her hand down.
"Nah, just don't break anything and you're fine."
>She leans forward on the counter, her toothy grin ever-present. It wasn't malicious, that much was obvious but, something about her aura just felt off putting.
"So, how do you feel like starting your night?"
| >Another soul entered the bar, dusting off a light coat of snow from their clothes.
>It was a woman on the tall side, just about 5'9, dressed in a perfectly fitted suit and tie. In utter contrast to her smart dress was the mass of cascading red hair which reached down to her thighs, a textbook use case for the word 'unkempt'.
>Said hair framed a taciturn face, with high set slanted eyes. Green like molten emeralds, swirling inside the woman's orbits.
>She gave a nod to the tender.
| >>993161
>In contrast to her, the bartender's eyes were yellow, like fading hope. Her demeanor, however, said otherwise. She greeted the redhead like she greeted everyone else.
"Hi, hi! Welcome, can I get you anything?"
| >>993167
>The woman approached the counter, taking off her coat.
"Hello."
>She said in a voice that perfectly matched the expectations set by her emotionless face. She was a soft-spoken sorts.
>She sat languidly at one of the stools, laying out her coat into her lap
"I'll take anything non-alcoholic, do you make virgin cocktails here?"
>Her brow furrowed slightly, a troubled smile barely reached the corners of her lips, she seemed almost apologetic for her request.
| >>993181
>Unbothered by the request, the bartender answered her with her usual chipper attitude.
"Virgin, huh? Sure! How does a mojito sound?"
>She readied her tools of the trade, lining them up on the counter.
| >>993105
"I'll try some of the..."
>John's speech drifts off as he looks on to the top shelf of the bar. He finds a bottle with "whisky" on it, pointing his metallic hand to it.
"...uh, that one."
| >>993187
"Hmm, Sure that sounds good"
>Her brow loosened, the look of utter boredom returning to her face as she leaned a hand into the counter and leaned her head into it, using her gloved hand to hold her chin.
"You guys don't mind smoking in here do you?"
>She asked, watching the tender prepping her drink.
| >>993244
>Her eyes trail up, tracking his hand and turning around to view the bottle. She reached up, standing on her toes and grabbing the literal top shelf stuff. She spun it in her hand, reading the logo.
"Some Haison? Got it."
>She produced a glass from the hanging rack and poured the man a nice glass of whisky.
| >>993289
"Nope, go ahead."
>She split her cocktail shaker into segment, filling it with ice and, then adding all the internal ingredients.
"So, you doing something important later? Or are you about to go on a long drive?"
>She drops a handful of mint leaves into a Collin's glass and muddles it. Finally she shakes up the drink and empties it into the glass. She slides it right in front of her customer.
"In any case, enjoy~"
| >Another woman enters the bar: a brunette in a sweater and a pair of jogger's pants, with a sling bag slung over her shoulder.
>Her blue eyes dart around at the different decors as she make her way to a bar, a smile on her face.
>She sits down, taking off her sling bag and nods at the bartender.
"Nice place you've got here, I'm surprised I haven't noticed this before."
| >>993314
>The redhead takes out a pack of cigarettes from her the breast pocket of her suit jacket, tapping it to extract a singular stick of nicotine before returning it to it's hiding spot, anyone who smokes would recognize the brand as being both cheap and notoriously awful, the kind of stuff even an addict on a bender would rather avoid...
>She stuffed the horrid thing between her lips and flicked a light from a Zippo, charring the end and inhaling deeply.
| >--She then exhaled with a satisfied sigh, as her whole expression loosened greatly.
>Only then did she notice the completed drink which stood in front of her. Without a moment of wait she grasped it and gingerly brought it to her lips, drinking slightly before settling the glass down with a satisfied nod.
"Nah, I just don't like what alcohol does to me--"
>She frowns
"The headaches get bad, I think they mess with some of my neural implants too."
| >>993337
>She looks up from her work as the bells chime again. Greeting the latest person to enter with a wave.
"Thanks, I sure hope people noticing us becomes a trend. Place has been barren till about 30 minutes ago."
>She peers over to her sleeping colleague.
"Though I guess someone's happy about our lack of patrons."
| >>993353
"Bad implant juju, huh?"
>She said as she tossed her shaker into the sink, rinsing off what was left over from her previous concoction.
"Must be some bother, at least you're keeping the alcohol-free beer business alive."
| >>993312
>John takes the glass, unceremonously drinking the amber liquid. It's good.
"I'll take a bottle of the Hai-son."
>He gets on to a barstool, adjusting his jacket to avoid sitting on it.
>>993352
>John could smell the acrid, yet familiar smoke from the redhead, wrinkling his nose. He starts digging in his own jacket pocket.
| >>993396
"That is strange, isn't it?"
>The brunette said, glancing over to the sleeping person, but turning her attention back to the bartender.
"I do think it's quite charming, the old-timey vibe. Really reminds me of one of the places back in Downtown. Beefeater, I think it's called."
| >>993397
>The woman shrugs, taking in another drag as she does, her eyes scanning the counter for an ashtray.
"It's not much of a bother. It's not like I ever was a big drinker."
>She pulled out the package of cigarettes once more from her pocket, sliding it across the counter towards >>993404
"Sorry for being presumptuous, but I don't mind sharing"
>She says, tilting her head ever so slightly towards John
"Word of warning, they're garbage."
>"But they're free"
| >>993404
"The bottle, got it."
>The bartender reaches back to the shelf retrieving the same bottle of whisky and places it on the counter in front of him.
"Strange taste you have there, Japanese whisky tastes horrendous to me."
| >>993406
>Her head tilts, eyes wandering upwards in thought before suddenly it clicks in her head.
"Oh! The Bizarre Beefeater, right? I've been to that one. Yeah, the vibe's totally something boss would like."
| >>993465
"Yeah, my husband and I used to go there a lot."
>The brunette replies, turning her attention to the shelves behind.
"I really need to show him this place. Maybe we'll become regulars here too, depending on how good the drinks are, of course."
>She adds, with a wink.
| >>993469
"Oh, is he also a person with a taste for the older things?"
>The bartender shoves a cloth in her now rinsed off shaker, wiping it dry and getting it ready for her next order.
"Well, order anything you like. I'll be happy to oblige."
>She winks back.
| >>993084
>Distracted by the sudden influx of guests, the woman finds herself scrutinizing in place of selecting. Not a familiar face among the bunch. Is that good? Is that bad?
"Hmm~"
>She seats herself at the bar with a sigh. The cropped cloak stays where it is. She clutches at it tightly as each swing of the door admits a draft along with a patron.
"Do you have a special you serve here, darling?"
>The woman tosses her head, scattering searing orange locks about her face.
| >>993423
>John stops looking in his suit jacket, grabbing the pack from the green-eyed woman, giving her a thankful nod.
"Won't say no to a free loosey."
>He taps a cigarette out of the pack, and slides the pack back.
>"They can't be /that/ bad."
>He snaps the fingers of his prosthetic hand, a jet flame sprouts from the thumb, lighting the cigarette now in his mouth. He sputters on his first drag, the smoke burning his lungs, an overwhelming tinge in the back of his throat.
| >>993463
>He coughs out the smoke, reaching for his glass.
"*cough* It's Japanese?"
>He finishes his glass, and pours himself another, hearing what the bartender
"Bartender, some water and ice *cough* please."
>He holds the cigarette in one hand, covering his mouth with his other.
| >>993535
>The woman grabs the pack and once more slides it into it's hiding spot, her expressionless face allowing a wry grin to pass her lips, if only for an instant.
"No returns."
>She quipped in a joking tone as she brought the mojito to her lips for another sip.
| >>993537
"Can I at least return the *cough* lung damage?"
>John take another, smaller test drag, trying his best not to scrunch his face. He stubs it out on the back of his prosthetic hand, refusing to experience that any longer.
"Why do you even smoke that?"
| >>993546
"I got plenty of my own, so I'll let you keep that too."
>The woman said, gently laying down her glass, the corners of her lips moving to form a semi-convicing smirk, there is good humor in her neutral voice, although barely perceptible.
"They're not that bad once you get used to it."
>She says in response to your query, taking another drag and puffing out a thick cloud of smoke to prove her point.
| >>993476
"Something special? Sure, we have some in house stuff you won't find at other BTC joints."
>She pulled out a drawer beneath the counter, producing a little paper booklet. She pulled a little pair of black half rimmed glasses from her breast pocket, sliding them on. Flipping the booklet to the second page she glanced up to meet the eyes of the woman.
"What kind of drink are you feeling tonight? I'll recommend you something."
| >>993536
>The bartender snickers watching the man in front of her dying from a bad cigarette. She shakes it off and nods.
"Pff.. yeah sure pal~"
>She picks up an ice bucket from the bottom shelf, bringing it over to what looked like a wooden cellar door. She pulled it open, lifting the metal latch to reveal an ice box with a metal scoop sitting on the inside. She filled it up and brought it to the counter.
| >Bending down, she pulled open a mini fridge and took out a bottle of cold water. She gingerly place it on the table for the man.
"There ya go~"
| >>993548
>John keeps coughing in to his jacket, the itch in the back of his throat keep being persistent.
"With all due respect, let me buy you a *cough* diffrent pack."
>>993558
>He grabs the bottle, chushing it as he drinks with urgency.
"Thank you. Brought me from the brink of the abyss."
>As John re-composes himself, refilling his glass as he stifles a cough, the tinge disappating. He finishes the drink of with a garnish of 2 ice cubes, letting them melt before drinking.
| >>993474
"Well, I wouldn't say he has that much of a taste for older things..."
>She trails off as her eyes wanders through the liquor shelves.
"I guess he likes a little bit of Arthurian Legends, does that count? Oh, and I'll take a cosmo. You guys do cocktails, right?"
| >>993618
"You know, now I'm interested just how bad can it be?"
>>993548
>She turns herself to face the sharp dressed lady. She smirks, slightly leaning forwards.
"Not to impose on you but, would you mind sharing one with me as well? His reaction has left me rather curious."
| >>993620
>The bartender chuckles.
"Arthurian? I think we're quite a few years off from that, one and a half thousand I think. Anyways, a Cosmopolitan? A classic, coming right up."
| >She took apart her shaker again, the inside now dry and ready for use. Lifting bottles of vodka and cointreau from the shelf, she pours them into her shaker, eyeballing the measurements after adding ice. From the fridge she pulled out a bottle of cranberry juice that was half used. This time she measured it, careful not to drown out the taste of the two main spirits. Finally she took half a lemon and squeezed it into the shaker.
| >After a thorough shaking she poured the concoction into a cocktail glass and gingerly added a little lemon spiral to the side of the glass. Now it was ready to serve.
"A Cosmopolitan for the lady in the nice capelet."
>She said as she gently lowered the cocktail in front of her.
| >>993633
"Well, a teeny tiny bit off the mark, but still pretty cool, right?"
>The woman says, as she watches the bartender make her drink.
"You seem like you know your stuff. How long have you been doing this for?"
>She asks as she accepts the cocktail and takes a small sip, setting the glass down on the table.
"Not bad."
| >>993642
>Having been complimented, the bartender gives her a toothy grin, once again exposing her sharp teeth. It's genuine, she seems truly proud of having picked up this line of work.
"About two years I've been at it, I think. It was real tough in the beginning. I've only recently started feeling safe here. Thankfully, my friend there's been helping me with it."
| >She eyes the only other visible member of staff in the building, who is still sleeping like a log on top of two chairs.
| >>993556
>The vibrant haired woman stifles a giggle as the bartender dons her cheaters to peer at the menu.
"Wellll..."
>The remnants of her hidden laughter draw her words long. She brings a fingertip to her mouth as of in thought. The woman eyes the cosmopolitan served to the other guest. Her gaze traces the twist of citrus.
"I'm >>>positively a>>>sucker for beverages with garnishes~! The more delightful the presentation, the better~"
| >>993535 >>993618
>The woman waits until John has ceased hacking and finished his long draught from his glass before trying to get his attention.
"Myyy~! That's >>>quite the parlor trick you've got stowed away in that arm."
>She examines the digits of her right hand, also mechanical but dull by her own comparison. The structure of the wrist portion of her prosthetic appears bulky, archaic. One imagines the rest of the limb matches.
| >>993653
"Well~"
>She trails on, grinning.
"None of our in house cocktails call for fancy garnishes but, I can do something special, just for you."
>The bartender's eyes rise from the menu making eye contact. She gives the woman a cheeky wink.
"Let's say we make you a 'Ring of Fire' with a special garnish from me."
| >>993662
>The woman bats her eyes in a manner coquettish, she tucks her chin to flash the volume of her lashes. All that's missing is the winding of a curl around her finger, but she restrains herself. A woman of her age mustn't do such things.
"Myyy~! Just for >>>me? And, on my first visit here... you>>>do know how to keep a patron~"
>She cocks her head in question.
"What's your name, darling~?"
| >>993664
>Her grin persists.
"I'll take any excuse to do something more complicated and fun on the job. Not to mention, I'd always love to see a new regular~"
>She kneels down, procuring a big old beer mug from the glass rack and peers her head up from the counter.
"Call me Marie."
| >>993667
>The woman grins and loosens her capelet, revealing a glimpse of her shoulders. Both natural. She has a graceful neckline.
"Marie... it's an absolute >>>pleasure. My name is Stylet~"
>One doubts the moniker is her true name, but in this city, does it matter? It rolls off her tongue adjacent to the pronunciation of the "stil" in "stiletto".
"It's refreshing to meet a tender so positively enthusiastic about their work~"
| >>993644
"Oh, it's always hard to try something new. You're doing quite well now, I must say. This cosmo is good."
>The brunette continues, taking another sip of the cosmopolitan as if to emphasize her point. She follows the bartender's eyes and turns to look at the sleeping staff member.
"Heavy sleeper, huh?"
| >>993657
"It's a work in progress. The real test was with Acetylene."
>He florishes his arm, his fingers stretching wider than human limits. The brass plating of the hand glimmers in the bar light, showing it's Holland engravings.
| >>993671
"I imagine it's a custom~? It's so very intricately detailed..."
>Stylet admires the various grooves and facets of John's arm.
| >>993669
"Ooh, a special name you have. I can't say I've ever heard of anyone with the same one. It's very nice to meet you as well."
| >She places her shaker on the counter, splitting it into it's three pieces. From a small metal basket containing several small bottles, she picks up a bottle of angostura and carefully adds two dashes to the shaker. Too much, and the herbal taste would overpower everything. Next, she takes three bottles from the cabinet beneath the counter, adding in a small serving of both Grenadine and Punt e Mes before adding a more generous amount of Chambord.
| >Then, from the shelf, she pulls a bottle of Canadian Rye and Rhum Barbancourt White, both of which she uses liberally. Finally, she shakes it up and pours it into the beer mug.
| >>993673
"The engravings are a comissioned piece. The detail was getting gas cansiter thicknesses right."
>John turns his head fully to the conversation, stretching out his hand for a greeting.
"I'm John, tinker, tailor, soldier."
| >>993676
>Now, for her 'special' garnishing. She takes out a nice sturdy sprig of rosemary, using a cocktail knife to sharpen the end of it. Afterwards she takes two blackberries and pierces the rosemary through them. At the parts where the rosemary exited the blackberries, the pines would split out and open up like a flower in bloom. The bartender gently slips the garnish into the glass.
| >>993679
>For the final touch she takes the remaining half of the lemon she used on the Cosmopolitan and placed two sugar cubes on to it. She held it in place letting the lemon juice stick the cubes to the lemon. She then gently placed it into the cocktail, letting it float. Finally she digs a box of matches out of her pocket and sets the drink alight. The flames go about half a foot tall. She brings the match to her lips and blows it out.
"Enjoy."
>She winks.
| >A mountain of a man quietly saunters into the bar sporting a plain white tank top with one of his shoulders bandaged; A steel pompadour shaped helmet affixed to the top of his head. Underneath one of his arms is a bundle of winter coats; He sits with a thud placing the bundle in front of him on the bar, later holding the nape of his neck and rolling his head around slowly.
| >>993670
"Yeah.. but, they're awake when you need them, I'm sure of that."
>The bartender smiles softly as she speaks. She tosses her shaker into the sink again, preparing for her next order.
"It's not really the fact that it's new that makes it difficult.. Thank you though, it's nice to hear that I'm doing alright."
| >>993674
>Stylet purrs a near musical slur of a laugh and a pleased hum.
"Whyyy, thank you~ I'm so glad to have it >>>appreciated... I did pick it myself, after all."
>She watches rapt as Marie concocts her custom brew. It's the little additions that pique her curiosity most. Her eyes fixate on the small bottles, the lemon bobbing within the mug. Her face lights with the flame, and with excitement. Stylet claps her hands together.
| >>993683 >>993680
"What a >>>marrrvelous show~! Such a caaarefully crafted potion... what finesse~! I could positively>>>fall >>>apart..."
>She eagerly brings the mug to her face, lifting her nose to savor the scent of the cocktail before raising the glass' edge to her lips. She takes a delicate sip, and lets her eyes flutter closed as the medley of flavors immerses her palate.
"Ohhh~"
| >>993683
"Picked it yourself huh? I think all of my names were picked out by someone else, now that I really think about it."
>She shakes her head, dismissing the thought and turning her attention to her fiery work of art.
"Make sure to blow this one out before you drink it, don't want your pretty hair getting set on fire."
| >>993677
>She sets the mug down to take John's hand in her own.
"Myyy... Aren't you missing something on your CV, John~?"
>Stylet grins at him coyly.
"I belieeeve those three professions are often followed by the word 'spy'~"
>She chortles, and winks at him.
"... How long did it take to get that done~?"
| >>993686
>Although her deeply satisfied exhale upon sniffing her drink seemed to have doused the flame, in her rush to sample this work of alcoholic art Stylet managed to singe the fibers of her capelet's fur trim. It's only once Marie brings it to her attention that she notices the smell of burnt synthetic. A small exclamation passes her lips as she hurriedly dusts ash from her collarbone.
| >>993682
>Seeing the bartender smile, the brunette smiles softly too.
"It is nice to have somebody be there for you when you really need them to."
>She says, looking down at her phone for a moment, and typing into it.
"I'm Alix, by the way, and I think my hubby should be arriving soon. He's just getting off work."
| >>993689
"Ah!"
>Marie exclaims as she frantically leans herself over the counter, reaching her hand out to pat the out the flame forming on Stylet's capelet.
| >>993691
>The large helmeted man looks over towards the ensuing chaos from the other end of the bar with concern and scoots the wad of winter clothing sitting on the bar in front of him away from the flame.
| >>993687
"Aha, I wouldn't call myself that... Not the quiet type."
>John leans back defensively... "What happened hi hello how are you?" He begins to point to his arm in hers, pointing out modifications.
"It depends on what you point to, the thumb is a prototype, but the scaffolding is a 3rd Revision."
| >>993691 >>993692
>The commotion noted by our patron with the chrome coiffure is mercifully short-lived. Marie's helping hands quickly bring the smolder to a stop. Stylet gives them a gentle squeeze in thanks before realizing this gesture could sting rather than soothe. She quickly unclasps Marie's palms.
"Oh, I'm >>>so sorry darling~! Are you alright...? Let me see your fingers..."
>Her lower lip juts as she frowns.
| >>993698
>The bartender unfurled her hands, showing them off to Stylet in hopes of calming her down. Rough, calloused, and scarred, her hands told of strenuous work in rigorous conditions. There were burns but, these were far older and more severe then anything she could've sustained from patting out a small fire.
"I'll be fine~ Don't worry."
| >>993631
>The taciturn woman, who had for the last few minutes slowly been drinking and smoking, in that particular order, passed on the pack of cigarettes to the bartender with a bored expression on her face... Or well, you're starting to think this is her default. The swirling green eyes focusing back to watch the new arrival...
>Her gaze lingers on the metallic hair-do, curiosity bubbling within the woman
| >>993707
>The bartender flips the box open and snatches out a single stick of tobacco. She nods to the bored by default woman.
"Thank you~"
>She brings it to her mouth and lightly bites down on it with her teeth. You swear you can see shreds come off as her sharp teeth clasp down on it.
>Picking up the box of matches she left on the counter, she flips one out with her index finger and lights the cigarette with it.
| >>993708
>She takes a slow drag with reaction much tamer than Mr. John's or, rather seemingly no reaction at all. After turning away and breathing out a puff of smoke she just smirks, looking back at the taciturn woman.
"Man, you're right. This sucks."
>She starts to chuckle.
| >>993709
>The woman smiles, in that odd way that those of her nature do, almost as if the motion was involuntary, it made her look somewhat handsome.
"Glad to have another happy customer."
>She quipped as a chuckle raised to her lips.
>>993618
>She grasped the pack and slid it back in place, lightly shrugging as she did.
"The good stuff is wasted on me, It would be like feeding truffles to a hog."
| >>993707
>The metal hair-do'd man cups the bundle of coats in front of him while eyeing the woman's cigarette, noticing himself being watched; he politely chimes in.
"Can I help you, miss?"
| >>993711
>The woman, spoken to, swivels a bit on her stool and looks at Gideon directly.
>Her eyes met yours, although it wasn't difficult to notice the upward twitch of her pupils as she tried her best not to stare at your irregular hair cut.
"Ah- well, I was just thinking..."
>She pauses and points to her own head
"Doesn't that get heavy to carry around?"
>She narrows her eyes, suck on that crown wearers, who said your head attachments were the heaviest?
| >>993712
>Gideon chuckles and rolls his neck around, before twitching it quickly from one shoulder to another, punctuated with a loud crack.
"Y'know, normally I'd just shrug it off and say it's no big deal. But I'm gonna be honest with you -- My neck has been *killing* me lately."
>He shakes his head, now deep in thought.
"What was I thinking?"
| >>993705
>Stylet looks troubled, but concedes to Marie's judgement: if the woman does not want her to make a fuss, then fuss she will not.
"As long as you're sure, darling~"
>>993693
>She returns to her conversation with John, face tinged with a touch of embarrassment.
"I mean to >>>tease, sweetheart... and, I>>>only play with those I find>>>incredibly intriguing~"
>She lifts a hesitant hand. It hovers by his forearm, fingers itching to trace paneling.
"May I touch~?"
| >>993693
"I >>>deeply apologize for all the questions, by the byyy... I've been looking to have some revisions done to my own prosthetic, you see~"
>She casts a careful glance around the bar. Surely we are among the friendly type, here; or, at least the type who can tell when to mind their business. Slowly she unfastens her capelet, and lays it over her lap. The now disappeared drape had obscured the true nature of her arm: a weapon, not unlike John's.
| >>993723
>A spike about the length of her upper arm juts from just below her elbow. Carbon steel. Stylet straightens her back, and as she stretches the shift in her posture hides the blade from view. Only when she flexes the arm is it so obvious: because of this, she lets it fall limp by her side.
"It's positively >>>hideous, isn't it?"
| >>993714
>The woman makes a troubled expression, she wasn't expecting this kind of response.
"Ah, well- it looks really dashing on you, sir."
>She adds, hoping to quell the flow of Gideon's thoughts. It's a clumsy attempt but an attempt nonetheless.
>>993723
>The redhead eyed the arm augment with a curious expression, humming slightly. First time seeing one of those.
| >>993726
>>993726
>Gideon catches himself, snapping out of his own tank.
"Thanks, Most people think it looks silly; but everybody needs a brand -- don't you think?"
"Sorry if I almost got a little... heavy?"
>Gideon briefly goes silent, hugging the coats in front of him, now trying desperately to keep things light he tries to steer the conversation with an anecdote
"Kinda like my headgear, Have you ever tried to weigh your head before? It's uh... not as easy as it sounds."
| >>993797
>The Woman nods in approval, glad to have Gideon reach around and pulling out of his funk. Another drag of her cigarette brings its smouldering end down to the filter, which due to decades of shrinkflation was made long enough to never come close to burn the fingers of the smoker of good taste.
"My head, sir? I'm afraid I've never really thought about it."
>She frowns slightly, her curiosity piqued, once more looking around for an ash-tray.
| >>993798
>Gideon laughs leaning away from the bundle of coats.
"Yeah I guess that's not a thing anyone would do, it was a matter of settling an argument. My sister told me my head was empty and you know how it is between siblings."
>He pauses again.
"So, I did what anyone would do and put my head down on a scale front first and relaxed."
>Gideon palms the front of his pompadour.
"Launched myself into the ceiling, lucky I didn't get hurt."
| >>993798
>Noticing that she had all but finished her cigarette, the bartender opens a cabinet beneath her, producing an antique green and copper globe. She places it on the counter with a soft but audible thunk and removes the top half of it, revealing that it is, in fact an ashtray.
>She takes another drag of her own cigarette, trying not to laugh at how horrid the taste in her mouth is and, then brings it down to the tray, tapping off the ashes.
| >>993802
>Exhaling, she turns her attention to the most recent customer to enter the bar.
"Anything for the big man with the most fabulous hair do?"
| >>993812
"Uhhh... yeah! Sorry..."
>The large man acts very sheepishly in contrast to his loud hair and imposing figure, he gingerly unwraps the jackets in front of him revealing a shoebox.
"Something strong, dry, and cheap please... and if you wouldn't mind; do you have a fridge or somewhere cool I can store this?"
>He taps quietly on the shoebox.
"If not, I get it. But I'd tip heavy if you could."
| >>993814
"Cold storage? Oh, yes of course. We've had customers store birthday cakes in here once among other things so, this is no bother at all."
>She picks up the box with both hands and brings it over to a large cabinet next to the icebox disguised as a cellar door. She pulled it open, revealing that it was in fact a refrigerator. One must wonder what other appliances are disguised as varying wooden doors here. After placing the shoebox inside, she returns to the counter.
| "Now, strong, dry, and cheap. Sounds to me like you're describing London Dry Gin."
>Turning around, the bartender swipes a clear bottle of Gordon's off the middle of the shelf. She picks out an Old Fashioned Glass from the rack and brings it up to herself. Pouring the spirit into the glass, she places it down on the counter in front of metallic haired man.
| >>993815
>The man takes a sigh of relief as suddenly the tension washes away from his face and his shoulders begin to slouch.
"Thanks, I owe you one."
>He nods his head after receiving the gin.
"Yeah, this'll do. Neat gin is my sister's favorite y'know? Definitely can't blame her for that, hits pretty good on a night like this."
| >>993817
>She nods, satisfied with her customer's feedback.
"I hear it's a ripe pick for day drinkers as well, the smell of gin's harder to pick up on then other spirits."
| >>993811
>The woman offers a quick 'thanks' to the tender, before snuffing out her cigarette, twisting the end and crushing the filter.
>she then pulled out the pack from her pocket, promptly putting another one to her lips and lighting it in a singularly fluid motion.
>She's obviously used to this dance, there isn't a single wasted movement as she puffs once more; she must be an SSR chainsmoker.
| >>993802
>Having performed a feat of olympic level lung damage, the woman trained her eyes once more on Gideon.
>He went flying? from sitting his head on a scale? She inhaled sharply, waiting a moment before knitting her brow.
"I'm afraid I don't follow, sir"
>Was there a spring hidden inside his head? What kind of Tom and Jerry show was this man living in??
>The cat and mouses in her head left way as she heard the bartender's last comment, clinging to it almost.
| "I've always thought gin had one of the more distinctive smells out of every spirits, I had acquaintances who positively reeked of the stuff."
>She wrinkled her nose while her lips tightened, a clear sign of non-aproval.
| >>993819
>Gideon laughs, before sipping the gin.
"I could see it, my buddy claims it tastes like perfume, so maybe it can smell like it too."
>>993829
>Gideon bangs on the side of his helmet hair.
"Yeah, old yakuza funded augment, it's meant to be a battering ram. It's supposed work like a... "newmantic hammer"? Or a "pile bunker"? Whatever those mean. You push hard enough on the front and it shoots out hard enough to throw a door open, that's the important part."
| >>993724
"In our line of work, function is beauty. It reminds me of the guys I used to serve with. they'd get fitted with combat prosthetics when one of them would lose a limb. they wore it with pride."
>He lets out a sigh, taking his brass hand out of hers, grabbing his drink, and taking a sip.
"So /where/ did you get that done? Not many labs are testing with close quarters."
>He looks over it with a slow gaze, wondering why we humans still bother with blades.
| >>993832
>A pile bunker? in his head? What kind of mad-man built that one... The woman craned her neck, feeling emphatic pangs of pain as she thought of the ramifications of installing such a contraption into a man's head...
"The Yakuza I've met before were a bit-- low tech it seems, I hope they atleast installed some neck braces to help you mitigate recoil."
>She left out the 'Or else you're in for a rough ride' Surely he already would have found out by now.
| >Into the building steps a girl, though most would rather call her a 'little girl' or 'young miss', a girl too young to be drinking, much less hanging around a bar
>Without a hint of hesitation the little lady approaches the counter and grabs at a stool, she attempts to jump on top, fails, and settles with climbing up with awkward motions
>Her matte black hair sways as she finally sits upright and begins to look around with her large grey eyes, reminiscent of roadside pebbles
"..."
| >>993835
>Her clothes are also quaint, to put it very nicely, some sort of heavily padded jumpsuit covered in unbuckled belts and straps. Like some sort of kid-friendly straitjacket(do they even *make* those?). The strange factor is increased by the myriad of anime pin badges covering the shoulders and chest of the suit
>She finally settles on staring at the other patrons, but she doesn't utter a single word
"..."
>Her face seems dissatisfied somehow
| >>993831
"Perhaps it's one of those genetic things, like cilantro tasting like soap, maybe you just have a special nose on you."
>She takes one long drag from her cigarette, just about finishing it up. She snubs it out and leaves it in the ashtray.
| >>993724
"Quite a robust piece of machinery you have there. Kind of reminds me of one of my bosses, actually."
>She leans forward a little after tossing her cigarette away, getting a better look."
| >>993836
>The bartender leans down, arching her back to reach eye level with the little lady. She smiles softly or, as soft as her sharp teeth will allow her to.
"Hello there, can I help you?"
| >>993834
>Gideon smirks,finally feeling like he can talk about what's eating him.
"Well, believe it or not -- *I* figured out why they *didn't*, I'm not the sharpest tack in the drawer but it makes too much sense."
"Shimohira clan always had their dumb muscle like *me* augmented with custom gear from the Corp they've been in bed with for years. But, I just found out they *love* human experimentation, wanting to find out just exactly how far a guy can bend before he breaks."
| >>993908
>The small girl stares back, if the teeth are scaring her, she's doing a very good job at hiding it
"Help me? Why?"
>Her voice is very soft, but the confusion is audible
>Why would you need to help her? She seems earnestly curious
| >>993922
"I don't mean to assume anything but, I'm not sure if you're the quite intended patron for this establishment. Despite my last job I've still retained my morals."
>She tucks her loose bangs behind her ear, as they fell when she leaned down.
"Are you lost perhaps?"
| >>993906
>The woman shrugs
"I've never really looked into it, but I'd say that's the most logical explanation for it"
>>993909
>The Redhead nods, seemingly convinced
"Looks like they got their safety playbook from the same corp, knowing what those are like these days. Did you end up breaking sir?"
>She asks, with a tinge of amusement making it's way into her tone, seeing as this guy got pushed around by a pneumatic hammer into a ceiling without injury...
| >>994033
>The girl tilts her head in response to the bartender's words
"Lost? I'm not sure. I think I'm where I want to be."
>She stares again before looking all around
"What about you, miss? Are you lost?"
| >>993833
>Stylet's grasp on John's hand lingers but for a second before she allows his fingers to slip through hers. "Function is beauty"...
"Mmm... that may have been true in my >>>previous line of worrrk, but such a>>>hostile looking thing has no function for me now."
>The point of the blade quivers as she flexes her arm this way and that, it's presence exaggerating even the most minute of movements.
| >>994380
"As for where it was >>>thrust >>>upon me... wellll, that's not something I can disclose~"
>Her frown deepens, marring her delicate features.
"Just know that >>>possession of such a weapon was>>>not >>>at >>>allll my choice."
>She takes another sip of her drink, to drown her resentment.
| >>993907
"Oh, if only I could take your compliment as such, darling~"
>Stylet shakes her head at the woman with the steel tongue and iron lungs.
"I can't possibly take pride in something so >>>positively >>>abhorrent."
| >>994335
>Her eyes drift to the side in thought. A watchful eye can see that her smile wavers for but a moment but, only a moment. In that moment she collects herself.
"Well, maybe everything that has happened so far and that has led me here isn't the best course of events but, I struggle to say I regret it."
>She pauses.
"I suppose it's good and bad. Like an ache that brings you joy. I suppose that's just how life is, isn't it?"
| >>994382
>The bartender leans forward to pat her on the shoulder.
"Aww, don't say that. I have one that is probably even more obtrusive though, I treat it like Mr. John's colleagues. Wear it with pride. I even got it modified to help with my work!"
| >>994381
"So why haven't you made it your choice? What's the catch?"
>John replies skeptically. He can think of a half a dozen rippers in GC, yet she's rolling with the mods?
>He takes another sip of is whisky, trying to remember if there was any corpo chatter. Just like his findings, his glass is empty.
| >>994413
"It's just John, actually."
>He mumbles, pouring himself himself his third glass of Hai-san? Hai-son?
| >>994416
"Ah, my mistake. It is a habit, I find it pleasing to say."
>She moves all of her now cleaned tools to the drying rack, having surmised that she wouldn't need them for the time being.
| >>994414
>Stylet gives a pained look, gingerly wrapping her hand around the upper part of her prosthetic arm.
"The inner workings of this burden I bear are >>>unknown to those who carry themmm... The fact that I've never managed to find even a>>>shred of information about this on the 'net vexes me>>>endlessly~"
>She bites her lip.
"It..."
>Her expression becomes guarded.
"... It wouldn't surprise me if the daaata annnd... those so >>>gracious to supply it were>>>removed."
| >>994413
>Stylet lifts her organic hand from the unfeeling plating of her right arm. She chooses to place it somewhere far more pleasant: on top of Marie's, blanketing it in warmth and gratitude.
"You're so kind, darling... merely mentioning this... >>>curse used to leave me utterly>>>shattered~!"
>She manages a wan smile.
"I'm so very >>>fortunate to have others around me be so supportive~"
| >>994423
>Marie places her other hand onto Stylet's to comfort her and offer some form of consolation.
"To live in doubt is to let those who wronged you win so, keep your head up, hm?"
>As she finishes her sentence a single bronze colored appendage shoots from behind her. Telescopic in nature, with a width like that of a baton, and joints like a spider's leg. She turns to look at, smirking.
"After all, I still keep such a cumbersome thing around myself.
| >>994422
"Considering your findings, yeah, probably. A geekboy would tell you all about his hybrid hunt and the screamsheets would keep yapping about whatever resource conflict is going on."
>John says off handedly. He take another sip, pushing the glass a little further away this time.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it so harshly. It's like Tender said, if you dont do something for yourself, who will?"
>John waffles, barely tangent to what the bartender said.
| >>994396
"I don't get it."
>The child scrunches up her face, she seems unable to understand the nuance you were hoping to show, the bittersweet feeling of a life lead up to this point
"But the adults keep telling me I'll get it one day when I'm an adult, too. I don't get it, can we really understand things just by aging? One day am I going to just become like you and them, miss?"
>She furrows her brow
"My friend told me I can't become anything other than myself, I don't get it."
| >>994423
>The Redhead peeked at Stylet from the corner of her eyes, looking towards the augment in question.
>No data at all about it? Makes sense that she didn't want some doc ripping through it without even knowing what the thing was in the first place, that's how you end up with weird infections that aren't covered by your insurance plan. Or worse...
"..."
>She thought an instant, sighing to herself before long.
"Have you checked if it has any onboard data? or BIOS?"
| >She spoke assuming the lady had done some research on augs, if she was asked what a BIOS was...
>She took another, much longer drag from her cigarette, the nicotine swirling through her system made her nerves tingle.
>It was a pleasant tingle, the kind that made her think:
>"Boy, I sure do need another cigarette right now, that would be awesome."
| >>994503
>Ever attentive, the bartender pivots her head to the bar's holder of the Olympic gold medal for smoking.
"Oh, are you out? We can offer you some, if you'd like."
| >>994504
>The woman nods, crushing the cigarette she held within her mouth.
>Her hand is already fiddling with the lighter, flicking it's lid and twirling it around
"So long as it isn't expensive, I'll have whatever you got."
>She says, closing her eyes.
>Other than her entrance, this is the longest you've seen her breathing in clean air.
| >>994522 >>994504
>John Chimes in, disatisfied with the Bar's Olympic Smoker's training regime.
"Please, for the love of all things plesant, give her something that dosen't stink."
| >>994529
>One of the woman's eyebrow lifted ever so slightly as she heard John's complaint
>She took a moment, before sniffing the air, trying to confirm if the smell was really *that* bad.
>She nodded, having done so.
>Yep, it's bad.
"Ah- Well. You know, it's that right?"
>She begins, twirling her lighter, before snapping it closed
"It's not that bad?"
>She lied as easily as she breathed.
| >>994538 >>994529
"Hmm, would you mind something of a.. higher quality perhaps? If it isn't too big an inconvenience."
>She peers over to the anguish of John.
| >>994079
>Gideon smile wistfully before he answers the question, downing most of the gin in front of him in a single drawn out swig.
"The corp used to pay people in their R&D department a bonus if they'd come do "maintenance" on our stuff. Or take measurements to see how we were uhh... 'holding up'."
"The boss' daughter worked there... she usually did mine. She always went out of her way to make sure I didn't accidentally break my neck, I should consider myself lucky."
| >>994549
>The woman sighed, waving a hand as she slumped slightly.
"Ah- well anything's fine I guess."
| >>994425
>Stylet feels compelled to reach for the articulate arachnoid limb that sprouts from the tender's back. In a way, it's familiar: that makes her smile.
"Myyy... such an elegant prosthetic~"
>The woman's eyes spark with an emotion you can't identify.
"I should have you visit my place of worrrk... you'd be the absolute >>>envy of the surgical department~"
>What laparoscopist wouldn't dream of having their trochar be their right hand-- literally?
| >>994426
>Stylet lets her splayed fingers fall limp in the midst of her slow stretch towards Marie's accessory arm. Abruptly she withdraws her searching grasp, turning her attention back towards conversation. One must not embroil themselves /too/ deeply in the personal lives of strangers, even if such strangers mean well.
"Ohhh, I know you meant no ill will, darling~"
>The hand that once reached for the tender finds a place over her heart.
"You're right."
| >>994851
"Perhaps I >>>should take more initiative... the mere>>>thought my actions may be in vain had just>>>overwhelmed me with utmost apathy~"
>Stylet takes a long pull of her Ring of Fire, savoring it's burn in the back of her throat. It blossoms in her cheeks, in the backs of her eyes. The woman sighs.
>>994502 >>994503
"... I havennn't... I don't think it's >>>nearly complex enough to have it's own motherboard~"
|
| >>994852
"...Well, something gotta be translating brain waves to motor signals. You can't be purely mechanical, right? In this day and age?"
>John's thoughts latch on to Styler's problem, like a child with a puzzle. The marbles in his head roll around, pondering.
| >>994748
>The bartender nods. Smirking before opening her mouth to take a deep breath.
"Serrrraaaaphiiinaaaaa!"
>Says the bartender in the loudest volume anyone in the bar has heard her speak in today.
| >The sleepy security staff, dressed in all black, suddenly snaps awake, propelling herself upright from both her slumber and knocking the chair behind her over. Wide-eyed, her left hand instinctively jolts toward her waist, it's muscle memory. Surveying the bar with a slow blink, she regains her bearings. A sigh of relief escapes her, and her arm eases back, hanging loosely at her side. She flashes the bartender and annoyed scowl.
"How many times have I said to just say Sera?"
| >>995397
>Marie leans against the counter, supporting herself by her palm. She smiles smugly.
"You know, I always thought Phina would've been cuter. Anyways, would you be so inclined as to share a smoke with the nice lady here?"
>She motions to the bar's MVP smoker.
| >>995398
>The woman, having been smokeless for a grand total of a few minutes is now busy tapping her hands on the counter, like a metronome or some kind of piano maestro, she looks towards the girl in the chair and nods.
"Call me Ishmael"
>She simply introduced herself.
| >>995401
>Casually, Seraphina readjusts her stetson, tousling her blonde hair which was in stark contrast to the all-black attire she wore. Her gaze fixates on the woman, quietly studying her for a brief moment.
"Yeah.. alright. You heard her, I'm Sera."
| >>995402
>She swiftly tipped her hat before sticking her hand into the depths of her leather long coat. After a moment of digging, she retrieved a crumpled black and white cigarette box labeled "Koldera Black" in her gloved hand. It was an obscure brand, though perhaps it was one she had heard of. After all it was perhaps but a single step above her usual in terms of quality.
| >>994849
>>>EMPATHY [Formidable: Success]-
>In Marie's years of bartending she'd picked up the ability to properly assess people or, perhaps feeling like a kindred spirit with her gave her a better read on her. Whatever the case, she could tell that Stylet's hand hadn't made it to it's intended destination.
"Do you want to touch it perhaps?"
| >>995403
>John quietly listens to Marie and Seraphina's squabble, sipping his drink, a senseble chuckle comes out every once in a while.
>But his eyes glint seeing the pack come from the guard's coat.
"Do you sell that pack here?"
>He speaks up, pointing to the pack.
| >>995418
>The bartender thinks, resting a hand on her chin, contemplating.
"Well, not usually, but maybe we should. Boss buys them in bulk anyways, so we have a few of those long boxes lying around."
| > An odd duo walk in, seemingly arguing about something. The larger figure looks bored, a pained face going ignored by the shorter person, who's animated face says that the other should be paying attention
> They walk towards an empty booth, ignoring the rest of the people. They quickly get comfortable and continue their conversation
"... Look, this don't change the fact that we owe him a favor. So just deal with it, love."
"Gods you're such a dick, Pete."
| >Reaching behind the counter, the bartender swiftly retrieved the handset of a landline telephone. Pressing a single button, she brought it to her ear, her gaze wandering for a moment as she waited. Suddenly, she perked up and spoke into the receiver.
"Barret? Mind sending Delta up here? We've got a sudden influx of patrons. Oh, and a box of Kolderas if you would, thank you."
| >>995613
>At the mention, Sera's head tilted toward Marie, a perplexed expression on her face.
"Delta...? Isn't she still in pieces from last time?"
>Marie casually waved it off.
"Oh, y'know I asked Barret to whip up something temporary for her. You know how Delta gets all antsy and guilty when she has nothing to do."
| >>995614
>After a brief few minutes, a door to the side of the bar counter swung open. It was an uncharacteristically normal door, not disguised as a cabinet or a cellar as we've become used to. Standing in the doorway was a girl sporting braided brown hair, clad in a khaki jumpsuit, with a pair of goggles perched above her head.
| >>995615
>She was in the midst of struggling to hoist what appeared to be a CRT TV mounted on treads up the stairs. On the screen, a white-haired android with a cracked eye, revealing circuitry beneath, came into view. Above that TV sat a box of Koldera Black laying logo down.
"Ugh! God, what was I thinking?! This place is NOT tread accessible!"
| >>995616
>And with that, the device gracefully clatters to the ground, landing on its treads with a satisfying thud. The jumpsuit-clad girl promptly vanishes back down the stairs. Marie offers a wave in appreciation as the girl departs.
"Thank you~"
| >>995436
The TV twirls, scanning its surroundings, while a staticky voice bellows from the speakers.
"Miss Marie? What can I assist you with?
>The sharp-toothed woman crouches down, swiping the cigarette box off the TV's top, and affectionately petting it. She speaks in a gentle tone.
| >>995618 >>995436
"Delta, would you be a dear and take those two gentlemen's orders?"
>She gestures towards the two newcomers.
>The girl on the screen nods, and the TV promptly spins around, rolling off to their booth.
| >>995394
>Stylet brings a knuckle to her pout in a pensive gesture.
"At the very >>>leeeast I know it has a microprocessorrr... Beyond that, I'm not sure~"
>She shrugs slightly, shaking her head.
"I've been under the... perhaps >>>uninformed impression that component is responsible for theee... communication between my brain and the circuitry within this limb..."
>The pauses between the fragments of her speech grow longer. The Ring of Fire has slowly begun burning her up.
| >>995405
>Stylet's eyes pop open in surprise at Marie's offer. She had reached out, hadn't she? Her enchantment with the tender's unique prosthetic had honestly muted her awareness of her actions... She blushes, mildly embarrassed.
"Wwwelll... if that would be... alright for a >>>mere >>>guest such as myself to do..."
| >>995421
"Two packs then please..."
>John glances at the Smoke based organism, overshooting the turn of his head.
"...Make that three."
>He finishes his glass, pouring his fourth glass, his motions more sweeping and his eyelids making him look sleepy. The three glasses having caught up with him.
| >>995620
> the two figures make themselves comfortable, each of them setting down the motorcycle helmets they were carrying them on the table itself. The larger one definitely looks older than the younger feminine figure. They look annoyed at being shut down.
"Yer lucky I even came back, Dust. City was a warzone and you still ain't thinkin a' leavin'?
> The feminine one shrugs
"I like it here, i guess. Plus Fox would get lonely and i can't bring him easily."
| >>995625
"Thanks."
>Ishmael replied with a thankful nod, it'd been five minutes now since her last smoke, how awful...
>She was already flipping her lighter around.
"I'll take another one of those mojito too."
|
| >>995624
"Oh, of course. It'll be no problem at all."
>Marie's implant extends forwards ever so slightly as she leaned closer, though she made it a point not to >>>point it directly at Stylet.
| >>995625 >>995967
>With seasoned finesse the girl in the stetson flips herself over the counter and swipes the cigarettes from the bartender who was currently too busy comparing artificial bodily oddities. Pulling a bowie knife that seemed a tad overkill for the task from her coat she promptly sliced away at the packaging and removed three cigarette boxes. She passed two to John and one to Ishmael.
"There ya go. Bot sure if you will but, enjoy."
| >>995647
>If the two of them didn't hear her rolling approach, they certainly heard her 'speak.' The CRT's speaker emitted a distorted voice that sounded like it was trying to speak through a pillow of static and white noise. Somehow, it managed to barely cling on to the edges of clarity. In contrast to the speaker, the voice was a low and gentle one. You could almost call it soothing if not for.. everything else.
"Welcome to A&H, what will you be having tonight?"
| >>996558
"Oh, hullo. Can I jus' get a beer and... a milk for the girl?"
"The old man has dementia, please forgive him."
> There's a thunk under the table. either one of them flinch
"Just get us two beers, thanks."
> Dusty glares at Pete who glares back.
| >>996557
>Ishmael took the pack offered to her and with a rapidity one wouldn't have expected from her languid self, procured a cigarette from within it's confines.
>She flicked it off her thumb, and caught it within her mouth, like some kind of circus performer, before ligthing it.
>She pulled deeply, a content sigh escaping her lips as she indulged into her unhealthy hobby.
"Good shit, thanks again."
>She thanked John once more.
This thread is permanently archived
| >As you walk along the familiar streets of Glitch City, a certain building catches your eye, one that sticks out like a sore thumb and makes you question how you'd never noticed it before. A bar built like an old-timey book store, the exterior was constructed entirely of wood, though upon a touch, you could tell it was synthetic. (We didn't have the budget for real wood. Sorry~) On the entrance, above the heavy metal doors, hung a thin metal sign reading Artyomov & Hoshino's.