Faces has a few reputations.
Its drinks are slightly cheaper than expected, but not very tasty. Its bartenders are all drop dead beefcakes. The food is microwaved, badly. No less than a dozen congressmembers have been caught in its bathroom with pants missing. It is, of course, the premier gay bar in town.
And it's not where Oath's Bastion has texted Chris to meet him. Instead he has asked to meet up across the street at Low Brau, a german bierhall with much more expensive drinks and no microwave in sight.
He's picked out a nice suit, a lightning bolt pin in the lapel, and had found them a corner booth across from the kitchen. Tiny is many things, and he is always hungry.
However, he now sits and waits for his date, sipping a water. He looks at the steaming sausages and pretzels leaving the bar, swallowing often to keep from drooling.
The Crescent moon in the sky provides inspiration for mystery and the uncovering of secrets. Hopefully not too many of his own, but Chris could riposte with surprising skill.