[@Wick] [@Dark Light]

Liz shambled into the tavern with her guitar slung over her back feeling like a zombie.  It had been a good eight or nine weeks of hitchhiking and riding in the back of strangers' pickup trucks, until she was stuck walking the rest of the way..until she happened upon this place out in the middle of nowhere.  It looked like probably a good place to rest up before she tried to hitch her way up to Seattle one more time, but further view of the...slightly sordid bunch made her feel a bit uneased.

She shuffled over to the bar and sat down beside a girl, a cute looking girl Liz might add, resting both her arms on the bar and slouching forward with a sigh, [color=6ecff6]"I'll just have whatever's good.  I ain't picky...."[/color]