The Kvartet - Temna Roza Jazz Club

[Foxglove]

Startled at the suddenness with which the woman had placed her hand on Maren's shoulder, she turned around, trying to not seem as spooked as she actually was. "Miss Pimakhova," she said, glad that this hadn't been some random person from the bar looking to talk to a girl. "Don't do things like that, please. I almost suffered cardiac arrest." Taking a deep breath, she took a closer look at the woman that she had so far only seem over comm channels, and had to admit that she was pretty much exactly like she had imagined her to be. Idly wondering whether that fur mantle was warm to her, Maren's eyes came to a rest on her cigarette for a moment — just like always. "I have actually just arrived. We haven't progressed farther than opening pleasantries, but I'd gladly take you up on your offer, ma'am. I'd like a drink, if you would, and leave it in your capable hands what exactly it is. I'd like to stay hydrated, though, and preferably not go blind due to excessive alcohol." She couldn't help but chuckle at the last words. "It's good to hear your smokey voice after such a long time. We still have those crates of tobacco on the Corvo, by the way."

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