It seemed that I could have chosen a better place. This place was straight out of a dystopian hell. Fumes wafted in the air, human figures mere figments of imagination intertwining in and out of the oppressive cloak. I'd visited my fair share of seedy bars, but lately I'd developed a preference for...cleaner places. A friend had recommended it, however...I'm guessing it was for the drinks.
A small shrug, and I walked in, trying to take in my surroundings as well as I could. It was not easy, but many battlefields looked like this, with one exception. The screams of the wounded and the cacophony of war was replaced with...rock? It was not entirely unfitting for the place.
More important was finding out how safe this place was. The sane part of my mind argued that this was mindblowingly pointless, no threat could possibly arise here...but in this case, the sub-conscious was usually the victor. A cursory glance left me with a favorable opinion. The bouncers were alert and could see all movement in the room, or as well as could be managed. No one looked particularly shitfaced or likely to start trouble...
Good.
Locating Hartman was easy, she was the only one looking decidedly out of place and uncomfortable. Nothing to be done about it now, this was the place we were in. I walked over and took a seat.
