at_the_tower | Relaxing in the city

WHO: Draak and you!
WHAT: Relaxing in the Last City inbetween strikes
WHERE: Dive bar
WHEN: Late evening/early morning
RATING: PG-13 will update if changes
ADDITIONAL NOTES: Warning; Draak.

Some things never change.

The Collapse may have meant the loss of countless recipes, practices, and tools, but humanity and her kin were resourceful. Alcohol being one of the oldest and most prevailing vices of the species, such a thing as large-scale destruction and societal collapse didn't mean the end of the home still or local brewery.

Legends told of the range and scope of some of the finer spirits and fermented beverages; European vineyards, American distilleries, such famed beers as Guinness and Lone Star. Lost outside of legend. Sure, sometimes you would happen on a dusty bottle, somehow still sealed against all odds, and if you were lucky the contents hadn't turned to fancy vinegar. But for everyday use, the old titles hadn't survived.

Here in the Last City, however, the practice itself thrived. Each neighborhood and ward had their special flavors and specialties. Families found trade and survival in the sale and trade of home-brewed carefully tended vodkas. Vinyards existed wherever one could get grapes to grow in the over-populated sanctuary inside the wall.

It was one of a few reasons Draak kept coming down from the tower, in between strikes, or waiting for a raiding party to assemble. She had her favorites, and today it was a little dive-bar in the southeast corner of the City, tucked away at the end of an alley with a grimy door under a sign that read ' Luciani's'.

They had the usual lager and ale selection that was most reasonably cultivated in tight corners, but for a little extra you could score a glass of their house red, Zinfendot.

And tonight Draak had certainly scored extra.

She hadn't even stopped to clean the Fallen blood off her armor, as her Ghost had avidly suggested, having immediately jumped into orbit before the last body was cooled. It had been a rough strike and she had looked forward to a little down time afterwards, but when the network keyes had dropped she realized she had enough now for a little extra pampering.

Which brough her to Luciani's. She sat with her back against the bar as she cradled the glass of fine liquid in her pale blue hand. It was red like blood and dry like autumn leaves. She sipped it carefully, savoring it, as she watched the crowd around her.