Some weeks after the plum Consilium, and the Path meeting she baled on, Briar Rose finds herself in a dive.
Boots. On. Hair loose. Finger combed. Jacket, on. Jeans, skinny. Eyes. Smokey.
Stale beer, and smoke clod her sinuses when she steps through the door. Eyes sting as she peers through the gloom. She can feel her boots stick to the floor as she lifts and steps. Eventually she makes it the the bar. A dirty towel is by an ashtray, one of the bartenders wipes down the bar top. It doesn't help.
She sets herself on a stool, and orders whatever's on tap.