(no subject)

[lazy_but_loyal]

Pam comes down descends the stairs, her t-strap stiletto pumps clicking sharply on the floorboards.

She's wearing a black, high-waisted pencil skirt with a slit up the side, and a clingy, red satin blouse that can only button up so far. Her hair is done up in relaxed victory rolls, blonde tresses falling in neat waves over her shoulders. When she perches on a stool at the bar, she crosses her long, pale, fishnet-stocking clad legs, and orders the latest Bergdorf Goodman catalog to peruse.

She doesn't order anything to drink. She's hungry, but she's not that hungry.

(Well, unless she thinks you're particularly delicious.)

(no subject)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

There's no napkin this time; Ellen volunteered for this one.

Specials

Anything That Comes In A Bottle With A Metal Bottlecap

Extra 25% Off If You Let The Tender Keep Your Cap
(Where I'm Going, That's Good Money)

It's worth a try, right?

Outside, afternoon

[ostro_goth]

Just outside the bar proper, there is a tall dark-haired Goth, clad in a Tyrian purple cloak and armed with a long-shafted battle axe, watching over a fiery-haired tiny goth in a fox hoodie and big warm moon boots, careening around in the snow and squealing happily.

Occasionally, little Egil loses his mittens, and Teja picks them up and catches the child to re-apply them.

There may be a snowman*, and a very gentle snowball fight, later.



* Bonhomme de neige, in French -- Teja has been reading up on the original language of the 1832 contingent, and was reminded that snowmen are a thing children have always loved, so Egil shall have one.