(no subject)

[eyemightbite]

The Corinthian sides up to the front door, lowers his mirrorshades just enough to squint inside, then moves quickly to a vacant part of the bar. He scoots the stool aside with his leg, then leans a boit, equally on the bar and the stool. His tailored suit jacket and pants are a deep maroon colour, and he wears a plain black t-shirt underneath. There is a flash of silver at his beltbuckle, matching his shades.
"Again. And over again." he mutters.
He taps the bar lightly.
"Coke Blak, with Jack Daniels. Ice it, then ice it again."
He smiles, sardonically, surveying the room.
"Pretty girls and cats. Fighters, fakers and Fakirs. Again, and over again."