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[indent][indent]To be quite honest, Tommy Patrick had initially been in a pretty shitty mood, stemming from when she'd first arrived at the manor by shuttle and had been thoroughly searched by the security personnel. She'd watched with wide eyes as her beloved baggie of Sativa hash had been taken away with the promise of being returned at a later date. [color=#5948BE]"Jeez,"[/color] the young woman had said to no one in particular as she was ushered past the gardens and towards the entrance, [color=#5948BE]"What is this, a Supermax? I haven't been through anything like that since I last visited my Uncle Charles up in that one prison in Brooklyn."[/color] The person who stood nearest her simply shot Tommy a confused expression before continuing on. She'd lost her attitude almost immediately, however, when she'd finally been escorted through a pair of ornate double doors and into a large circular room.

The very first thing to catch Tommy's eye as she entered the room was the expensive-looking, crystal chandelier that cast a warm glow of diffused light onto the guests that stood below it. But the second thing that Tommy noticed was just how under-dressed she seemed to be compared to some of the other guests. As she carefully adjusted the settings of her earpiece, the young woman couldn't help but stare in awe at the beautiful gowns and nicely tailored suits that wore their owners. The only thing that eased her mind a bit was realizing that the majority of them appeared to be just as nervous and uncomfortable as she was; so much so that they probably wouldn't even care about the fact that she'd worn one of her old pantsuits and a pair of flats rather than some fancy cocktail dress.

Soon, Tommy had finally spotted where they were keeping the alcohol. The sharply-dressed bartender offered her a warm smile as she approached. Quite a few people had already gathered at the bar; Tommy had arrived in just enough time to hear someone nearby order a Whiskey neat. [color=#5948BE]"I think I'll take the same as the guy over there,"[/color] Tommy said with a shrug, [color=#5948BE]"Whiskey. Neat."[/color]

While Tommy had been smoking pot since her high school years, the young woman had never really been much of a drinker unlike the majority of the kids her age. She hated the taste of a lot of the stuff, and only ever drank it when she knew that she needed to relax. And for this reason, Tommy simply copied the other man's order instead of ordering something she'd had in the past; she was still trying to figure out what her "signature drink" was. Maybe it would be Whiskey? [color=#5948BE]"Thanks a bunch,"[/color] Tommy said with a wide grin when the bartender returned with her drink. The young woman then mentally braced herself before taking a cautious sip from the glass. 

The taste of the drink wasn't nearly as bad as Tommy thought the smell to be. In fact, it wasn't bad at all. As Tommy took another few sips, all she could think about was how she couldn't wait to tell her girl back home about her newest adventure.



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