[color=7bcdc8][b]Elara Decaux[/b][/color]
[indent][color=cccccc]Elara knew she absolutely shouldn't have poured the man [i]another[/i] drink. However, not only did Americans tip, they tipped more when they were drunk. So she shrugged as she poured him another whiskey before turning to her register and adding another to his growing tab. A smile remained on her face and her long--wavey today--dark hair bounced as she stepped between customers. Her tank top brandished the the bar's logo, but that's not what the other was looking at as she got on her toes and leaned over the counter to better hear a man's order. She was learning quite fast--she was already fluent in English, but working as a bartender had given her the chance to learn a variety of alcohols and bar slang. Granted, she didn't always get it right. 

The young woman bit her lip, eyes wandering the ceiling for an answer to her question: "[/color][color=7bcdc8]That's with vodka, yes?[/color][color=cccccc]" Her accent was thick and low.

The answer was interrupted by the shattering of glass. Elara immediately pulled her away to her full height, eyes looking to the whiskey pooling over the counter and the man grumbling. The man she was serving had been stunned to silence, but she was on the move. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked as she quickly moved to pick up a rag--almost too quickly. It wasn't until she dropped the rag down on the spilled whiskey did she also smell the blood and see its red soaking into the white towel. "[/color][color=7bcdc8][i]Oh non[/i]--[/color][color=cccccc]" She abandoned the rag to try to reach over the counter, to check the man's hand. But he simply stumbled away and into the men's restroom. 

"[/color][color=7bcdc8]Um,[/color][color=cccccc]" she started, looking around for help--ideally for another man to follow him into the restroom while she cleaned up the bar.[/color][/indent]