[center][b][h2][color=f26522]The Senator[/color][/h2]

Bar O'Brien - Ayumu's Questionable Streets[/b]

[@Flamelord][@Lmpkio][/center]

[hr]

After a long day's work within the most prestigious hotel of the city of Ayumu, "L'Arôme", Steven Armstrong had the unholy habit of spending evenings in various pubs with co-workers or even clients. Indeed, ever since he fell into this bizarre universe, he couldn't help but realize the cold hard truth that his dream was to be drowned. He wasn't depressed or anything, but he did have mood swings after stressful hours, pushing him to enjoy himself more than he had to. Ever since he arrived, he had the luck of running into this very hotel that employed him. Through his many credentials and his irrefutable eloquence, it was easy for him to reach the recently vacant position of director of Public Relations. With this position, he had free access to the Penthouse as well as a large amount of connections with more influential people in the region. 

Tonight however, he wasn't drinking away like usual. He wasn't laughing around with colleagues or picking a typical bar fight as he would to 'stay in shape'. No, this time the Senator was simply sitting on a stool right before the bar's counter with a shot in his hand. He chugged it all in one go as the bar's bell rang, indicating someone had entered. Turning his head, along with the few shady hooligans either playing pool or simply drinking away in their corner, he noticed it wasn't the person he was waiting for. It wasn't that robotic General he had made recent dealings with, the alien being that was to discuss their current standing toward this overly influential Guild in the town. Instead, he'd notice a fancy looking redhead with one of those trashy cigars he'd find in the low end markets. 

Armstrong recognized this man, there was no doubt about it. He had a strange notoriety of being one of the best in what he did, and his presence made it clear he was to be treated like the slimy fox he was said to be. The senator chuckled before waving at the barman for his attention before using his thumb to point at Roman's figure. 

"[color=f26522]Whatever he gets is on me, Pete.[/color]" 

He'd tell with a strong enough voice to make it clear that his intentions were to make first contact with Torchwick. Slowly, he went to pick up a small case within his black suit only to open it and reveal a set of eight high quality cigars. He'd help himself, of course, sticking the thin end of the tobacco roll between his lips before proposing one to Roman whom he'd suppose would have taken a seat next to the tall Senator.

"[color=f26522]Try some of these, son, they'll get the taste of shit out of your mouth.[/color]" 

He'd offer the thief with a large, welcoming grin on his face. Roman could get a good glance of the middle aged man's visage, visibly someone who didn't have a problem with communication. Only a few gray strands of hair would defy his otherwise charismatic look. He was dressed like the typical Senator otherwise, making both the thief and the politician greatly up the chic standards of this otherwise questionable bar. 

"[color=f26522]So, what brings you to this shithole? Also, you got a light?[/color]"