Wha. [i]No.[/i] 🐍 << [u]Alcohol[s]ic[/s] Establishment[/u] >> This could not possibly be. Oh some partings and arrivals but nobody had really [i]grabbed his attention[/i] one might say. Not the way a staff member would. No tucked away apron. No hastily hidden cigarette. No badge. The uniform was lacking. Yet there it was. The world altered into a dark vortex once again. [@Dark Cloud] THIS? A busty waitress or a two-timing crook of a kid or a dusty old man or a robot, any of those archetypes would have been fine. But the delinquent drink tender was this crusty..?! You knew the look by the time you were in service long enough, they had seen and spilled blood before. Such a disgusting fall from grace to be a shift dodging lazy, unresponsive..! No. This was fine. Omi Barsait, target of a turntable thief he had never met and would never know committed their crime save some random asshole dropped his custom made jacket onto the floor of the front entrance, soothed himself mentally. This was all fine. Yes. The story was starting to take reasonable shape and make sense. Allow the following: a veteran from a war, it didn't actually matter what one, had hit rock bottom. You saw the types, drinking themselves to death. The ownership of this expansive but otherwise hole in the mud establishment felt sorry for him. All the demons invading his mind and soul daily, he needed given structure. Politely, the management threw him into this job, but the guy just can't cut it. He sneaks off shift, gets shit faced, doesn't serve red clad security auditors equipped with a mace their drinks when they yell for it. It's a tragedy, a real human sorrow piece born from the ails of mankind. However, a pretty young lass gets to the bar and, what? The veteran remembers their long lost wife or lover. Yeah. Probably dead. Or he's just crusty and needs action. Wasn't really his place to judge, point is the humanity comes back and he dons his dirty apron to do his job. His one job, he's not very good at, on account Omi was dry as a bone. But his job. Alright. That wasn't so bad. That was tolerable. That was [i]acceptable.[/i] Omi wouldn't attack someone for that. [b]CRASHHHH[/b] came Omi leaning over the bar once more, upper torso first like a viper darting against it, a toothy grin and a wild expression plastered across his face. Right next to the woman this renegade barkeep was trying to woo. Yeah, he respected the courting dance and what have you, far be it from him to judge. But that was over now. He found his target, and his fangs were sinking in. Metaphorically so far at least. "[color=f7941d][b]WELL if it isn't the lord himself. Strong stuff 'en! A bottle of good whisky. A tasty brandy. Something to get me started. Top shelf. And a dessert, I'm thinking truffle cake with fresh raspberries in a diamond formation. And, and! You needn't worry about your little "break." Your secret's safe with me and you'll be tipped damned well.[/b][/color]" Winking his left eye, all that could be described of the wild brown haired man's demeanor and movements are a raw [i]manic[/i] flow. Like every blood vessel in his body was just barely perceptible but moving right beneath the surface, his core couldn't stay still. More prominent in the light, his bar mace strapped to his right side nice and tight came more into view. Still you would be forgiven for thinking he was some noble hyped up on white powder, it was a lion's heart given 10,000 volts shocked into a human man's chest for all the anticipation on his face. Were there women, riches, or glory to be found here, for the next so many minutes and moments, they could be stacked to the heavens.. and still Omi's eyes could only see this old beast of a warrior. The savior of his fine dining at this tavern he didn't recognize in the town he was fairly sure he was still in. His hero. His salvation. The final last hope of a ticket, to decadence. It didn't matter if this was some drunken sod with their glory days long behind them, broken and in tatters, carrying a weapon behind the bar - well hey that was odd - but so was Omi! He was mighty eccentric too and that didn't stop this from being a rightful patronage now did it? No. Perhaps they'd add some kind of chocolate drizzle onto the cake. Just perhaps!