[color=teal][sub][i]January 12 2079[/i][/sub][/color][hr]
[Colour=lightgray]“[/colour][colour=Teal]Make that two[/colour][Colour=lightgray]"

He gestured to the bartender with two metallic fingers. People in St.Petersburg were generally frugal with everything but their liqueur, the notion of cheap vodka caused Artem to roll his neck as if paining him. The two of them sat there for a few moments watching the commotion on the club floor.

“[/Colour][Colour=B56A7B]Bet you’re surprised to see me actually show up.[/Colour][Colour=lightgray]” 

A slight laugh prefaced Artem's response. "[/Colour][colour=Teal]I was beginning to wonder.[/colour][Colour=lightgray]" 

The loud tap of glass hitting the bar-top caused Artem to turn. He watched as the Android poured from a bottle he was hoping to recognise, but didn't. He payed a grimacing smile before picking up the glass, tinking it's sister and taking a sip. 

The lights in the club dimmed. The few strips of neon lit the room in a blueish haze just like the moon at night. A couple introductory cheers invited the resident DJ forward as he began to play the next [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aKhqXUXBUk4]track[/url]. Panels of light flickered in time with the beat as a layer of lasers split the dancers at the torso.

Artem, vodka in hand, started to scan the booths flanking the stage. He watched as a quite clearly drunk man started announcing his love for one of the women on the floor. As he conjured her over Artem noticed the Oni mask Tattoo between his silk shirt. The Soul Kitchen Club was a hot spot for the cities Asian demographic and often entertained members of the Yakuza. The girl, aware of who the man was approached with a smile and sat with the three of them. Looking back at Varya Artem quickly threw back his drink, leaving the glass back on the bar.

"[/Colour][colour=Teal]So what's your deal? why'd you become a software mechanic?[/Colour][Colour=lightgray]” he hadn't quite figured Varya out yet. St.Petersburg was home to many typical people that Artem understood at the moment of meeting. Things were very straightforward, black and white in Russia. But she was more nuanced, he had to think about his responses. Whether that was because she was more defensive about her personal life or simply damaged Artem couldn't tell. Getting her to a bar though, was a step forward. It obviously wasn't in her comfort zone.

Artem gestured to the Android for two more glasses before shuffling the fresh pack of cigarettes gifted to him by Oleg. That still surprised him. The bright orange fire cut through the blue and white haze as he lit up. Artem's eyes met with the drunken mans gaze. As a heavily tattooed Russian Artem had run into problems on Yakuza turf before. With an empty bottle of Sake laid on its side, the lights dancing over it's curves, Artem hoped tonight wasn't going to be one of those nights. He looked away, pretending not to notice the mans stare.[/Colour]