Lounge Rouge

[Evo]

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."

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