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[color=d4af37][b]Location:[/b] Apartment > Street > Bar (Pour Judgement)[/color] [b]|[/b] [color=d4af37][b]Interaction:[/b] None/Open[/color]

[hider=Theme][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-IL4j48rEY&list=PLMVbuf2RUICH0HPa9BWIq_4_Kqt2Iaz--&index=17[/youtube][/hider][/center]

	Everything was blurry and somehow time seemed to have retarded to half its usual speed.  Rafael had spent the better part of an hour sitting alone in his dark apartment searching for answers, resolutions, [i]anything[/i]... in a handle of vodka.  Even after getting halfway to the bottom, he was just as lost and depressed as he was before.

	His inner monologue played out a solemn melody to an otherwise upbeat song, bastardizing it to match his mood.  He was done sitting alone with his thoughts.  He decided it was best to venture out.  If he couldn't improve his own vibe, perhaps there was someone else out there who could.  Then again, the city was still reeling from the attack earlier in the day.

	It was the early evening hours.  The sun was making its escape across the horizon while the moon had already stared to beam down its reflected light.  Rafael tried to consider what it meant, now, that he was a confirmed altered human.  His considered the impending curfew, the treatment he was sure to get from the "normies" and, oh god, even his parents.  Would they care?  Surely not but... maybe?  It was too much to process.  He was going to need another drink.

	As Rafael stumbled down the street, he gave an uncoordinated salute to each passerby, using all his concentration not to fall over upon or in front of them.  [color=d4af37][i]Just get to a stool[/i][/color], he told himself.  He looked up at the neon signs of the buildings he passed.  The images visually echoed and traced as his eyes moved in any direction, but he could sort of make out some familiar shapes.  Finally his eyes fixed upon what he was looking for: "Pour Judgement Tavern".

	The bar wasn't much to look at from the outside.  Some white, peeling paint covered the exterior walls.  The two windows at the front facing the street were tinted black and covered in security bars.  In between them was the entrance: a lone door covered completely in stickers advertising a variety of bands.

	Rafael grabbed the doorknob and gave it a tug.  Much to his surprise, the door hadn't opened.  The doorknob, however, was still in his hand.  Rafael furrowed his eyebrows as the fog of confusion took over.  He looked at his hand and then back at the door before realizing that the knob had broken completely off and molded to the shape of Raf's fingers within his grasp.

	"[color=d4af37]Cheap pizza sheeyit,[/color]" he slurred at he let the knob fall to the ground.  Sticking his finger into the doorhole where the knob once was, Rafael managed to slowly and carefully pull the door agape and slip inside.

	As one enters Pour Judgement, they are met with the loud ruckus of a local band playing on the small stage at the far end of the building, a smoky haze that gave evidence to the fact that no one was adhering to the No Smoking sign posted out front, and a dim atmosphere that took the blinding edge off a drunkard's eyes.  To the right side was the elongated bar that stretched the entire span of the wall, lined with barstools and patrons of various flavors.  To the left were a few billiard tables, a dart board, and some vintage pinball games.  This was a dive, for sure, but it's exactly what Raf thought he needed.

	He shuffled over to one of the empty stools and plopped down before putting his elbows on the counter and propping his head up atop his closed fists. "[color=d4af37]VAHKAH![/color]" He shouted out in the general direction of a distant bartender.  "[color=d4af37]Preez, I mean,[/color]" he added politely.  Were he anyone else, he might've gotten thrown out then and there for already being a general mess.  Luckily, Rafael and his roommates were regulars at this particular establishment, which afforded them a little leeway.  After his first shot was placed in front of him, Rafael sank it down his gullet with ease before setting it back down and giving the counter two taps, a wordless request for more.  He then spun the stool, taking in the faces of the people around him while the bartender reloaded.  "[color=d4af37]Now wish one of deez muhfukkers is gon be mah new bess frin?[/color]" he asked aloud, forcing a queezy grin.