04-13-2014, 07:57 PM
Claire yearned for a taste of home, and what was a better representation of home than some random dive bar, a game of pool, and a cold draft beer?
This one didn't stick out beyond its general ability to blend in. Perhaps that was what drew Claire. She'd seen her share of the interior of bars lately having dropped off applications on her whirlwind job hunt tour.. Most of the places were shitholes, and those that were close to her standards were operated by asshole idiots. If she were going to subject herself to taking orders from someone, it was going to be an asshole she at least respected.
She was in her usual get up. Nothing glamorous enough to get into even an unpopular Moscow club, but nobody bat an eyelash when she strolled in here. Not even the cockroach she stepped over when coming in. Claire barely noticed it. At least it wasn't a rat.
She slid out of a leather coat when she grabbed a seat at the bar. The coat was emerald green, but the close-fitting shirt beneath was jet black. Metal punches outlined the shape of a skull on her chest. Gauzy tights, a blue mini skirt, and boots gave her edgy fashion a feminine touch, like the way sharp bangs fell across her eyes.
"What do you have on draft?"
She asked the bartender that approached. Unfortunatey, she recognized none of the labels.
This one didn't stick out beyond its general ability to blend in. Perhaps that was what drew Claire. She'd seen her share of the interior of bars lately having dropped off applications on her whirlwind job hunt tour.. Most of the places were shitholes, and those that were close to her standards were operated by asshole idiots. If she were going to subject herself to taking orders from someone, it was going to be an asshole she at least respected.
She was in her usual get up. Nothing glamorous enough to get into even an unpopular Moscow club, but nobody bat an eyelash when she strolled in here. Not even the cockroach she stepped over when coming in. Claire barely noticed it. At least it wasn't a rat.
She slid out of a leather coat when she grabbed a seat at the bar. The coat was emerald green, but the close-fitting shirt beneath was jet black. Metal punches outlined the shape of a skull on her chest. Gauzy tights, a blue mini skirt, and boots gave her edgy fashion a feminine touch, like the way sharp bangs fell across her eyes.
"What do you have on draft?"
She asked the bartender that approached. Unfortunatey, she recognized none of the labels.