From the door behind the bar, an opening with unexpected background occurs. Shadows and moonlight as if filtering from branches, maybe? That is unclear but a figure hidden by the hood of a cloak as they enter past the threshold.
The figure raises their left hand to pull back the hood. Glittering emerald jewelery catches the light beside the shine of a more ferocious ring.
The hood falls back from Circe's face, her, currently black, hair held up in a ponytail with the brow held in place by more jewelery, a pair of arrows upon her ears and the glint of a necklace hinting to more jewelry. And a stylish pair of glasses.
Circe looks around to see where she can put the cloak, "Ah, that'll work," strutting over, the cloak parts to show the regular flash of bare legs, tanned to mortal eyes but blue to fae sight. That and the black supple leather of her high heeled boots. She made her way around the bar, headed somewhere to do something, her eyes sweeping the room.
The Summer Queen has arrived. But what was her fashion tonight?