[Vermelhau Clover]

Face the Music

Well, this night couldn't have gone any worse.

Vermelhau Clover was standing alone at the bar of one of Mistral's more pristine music clubs. Spinning Records. It was one of those swanky places; red leather couches, hard liquor in glasses that were way too small, and a live performance almost every night. There was something of a crowd too. Not surprising as one of the more popular piano players of the moment was performing tonight. While Vermelhau at one point of his life would have known them by memory at one point of his life, he hasn't exactly kept up with the music scene. Certainly not the one in Mistral in the two weeks. Finding a place to live in the Ground District was his first concern, getting the place rat free the second. Honestly, those rats were more dangerous than some types of Grimm. Those fucks bit through the broom Vermel had used as his first weapon to keep them at bay. They honestly could be quite the weapon if someone were to train them...perhaps a possibility for later. All in all, things were not ideal but he could manage. With his life somewhat stable at this point, this was supposed to be his first moment of some normalcy.

It was supposed to be his first date.

It was supposed to be a simple hook-up with someone you contact on the CCT. He had a nice beard, looked not too bad. Why not? Go to a bar, having a few drinks and laughs and see if it clicks, go from there. Vermelhau's date had even suggested this place. Vermel had even dressed in a nice enough pants and blouse! No midriff exposed! Vermel had arrived at Spinning Records first it seemed, and after the person he was supposed to meet was 10 minutes late, he had ordered the first drink for himself. Maybe he was just delayed? Anybody can be late for a date, and Vermel was relaxed enough to wait for someone if they seemed to be worth the wait.

It was now 45 minutes later, and Vermel had downed his third wine. No response to texts, and with no number to call, he was quickly out of options. Well, not true. Those three wines were an option that Vermel happily accepted. He wasn't going to let his first night in a club in the Cloud District go to waste. Fun is where you make it.

The man was leaning against he bar of the club, looking available as heck as he in turn looked around for someone to at least not spend his whole night alone. It could be someone sitting around, or one of the few people dancing to the piano playing.

Tagged: Seiya Estelle Sune
Words:456
OOC:Rodents of unusual size

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[Seiya Estelle Sune]

Spinning Records was... a bar.

Well, that was selling it a little bit short; it was more of a club than just a shitty old bar, and it was a decently swanky one at that. Not quite comparable to the speakeasies and lounges back home in Atlas but it was an admirable attempt all the same by the city of Mistral to seem cultured. The operative word, of course, was 'seems' cultured. While it was undeniable that the kingdom had a long history of creativity and embracing the fine arts, it was just as true to say that it had become stagnant and set in its ways with nary an attempt to move on into the modern world. Parts of the city suffered less from this -- Spinning Records in particular seemed to be one of the newer buildings in the rich sector -- but the large majority of its buildings were of traditional and crude construction, with almost all of them being worse off the lower to the ground one went.

Seiya stood at the entrance for a moment, plucking her scroll from a pocket and giving it a quick skim before returning it with a sigh. She opened the door, after a short moment, and entered the club with a mission and cash to spare. Straight through the not-quite crowd, expression somewhere between tiredness and anger, right up to the bar and the bartender waiting there, ignoring anything and everything in the way between her and some goddamn booze.

"Whiskey," she said -- not asked -- with a quick adjustment of her black scarf, "but no ice."
"And, what-"
"Shit, I don't care, anything. Somethin' from Atlas if you got it. Surprise me."

There was a brief exchange of glares and quiet indignant sighs from the two of them, but where the bartender's had come from an imprecise irritation, Seiya's was considerably more... well-executed -- boredom laced with just a hint of anger seemed to be one of her defaults ever since the surgery, and the training, and the expectations of performance that had come along with it all. A stiff drink wouldn't hurt things, but there was zero possibility of it helping the matter; there'd be nothing gained and nothing lost, and it was due entirely to the latter half of the sentiment that she had wandered off into the Cloud District for an easy (if, maybe, expensive) night away from the slow-burning hell of academia. The young huntress drummed at the countertop of the bar for a moment, shooting another look to the bartender as she did so, letting a smug smirk slither out from her mind for just a moment before forcing it back into her mental cage. No use giving anybody the wrong idea, after all; Seiya rather enjoyed the opportunity to bark out an order, and rather hated the notion that someone would notice.

A scattering of lien across the smooth surface of the bar sealed the deal, and after a moment the poor fool in the young huntress' path returned with a glass of hard liquor.
This was the good life.
Or, maybe just close enough to the good life to be the next best thing.

Seiya raised the glass to her mouth and took a short sip, pulling back for a moment to truly taste her drink, then went straight back for another much heartier swig. The student gave a quick glance down across one side of the bar, then another out across her other side to try and gauge what sort of evening this'd turn into. The place looked pretty empty all things considered: a live pianist, some dancers, and a few chucklefucks at the bar (though, not including the lovely lady herself, naturally) comprised everybody within the walls of the establishment. Of particular note to the girl's rather keen eye was a red-headed man not all too far away further down the length of the bar, staring and silently seething out into the room with a drink in hand.

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WC 670/670