Feeling like going out, but not feeling like spending a lot of money or performing for his next drink, Kyle enters The Bunker. He pulls the bill of the white and black ball cap down low, covering his face a little. Tonight he isn't in the mood to be recognized. He isn't really in the mood for anything, which is why he sorely needs a drink. Some dick had almost hit him when he was crossing the street, and he is in a rare mood. That probably isn't why he's upset, but he tells himself it is.
He walks towards the bar, glancing at the other patrons as he passes close enough to see them. It seems a quiet enough spot. He sits down a little ways from everyone else at the bar and orders a drink.
"Can I get whatever is on tap? Something dark, if you have any." He rubs his chin where a half week's worth of beard was growing in. "Actually... can you go ahead and give me two? Please." He flashes a smile. Even in a piss-poor mood, the Minstrel can't help being polite. Though if that jerk in the Cadillac shows up here he might reconsider. He leans over the bar to get comfortable and listens to the little pockets of conversation, completely oblivious to the presence of two others 'like him'.
-1 Glamour for hardened Mask