I'm Only a Social Drinker.

[Anonymous]

Nursing the drink she got over half an hour ago, Phenyo watched the people drift in and out. Mismatched green eyes following some figures, passing over others. Plain and fabulous people alike came in and out of the bar, she swore she saw someone covered in bright feathers, it was a man, looked like a woman, but it didn’t have tits so it must have been a guy. Phenyo couldn’t help but watch him for a while, bright coloured and flouncing around. At one point she even caught his eye, waggled her eyebrows, it was the highlight of her evening when he blushed. Well, that blew her plan of seducing him and stealing any type of credits he had, oh well, maybe he was into the Door Number Two route of life, not her type at all.

Phenyo was a short young woman. Five feet tall, maybe five one, big boots, which didn’t touch the floor and barely rested on the rung of the chair. Short bright purple hair, divided into two braids, adding to her look of youth, though her body was curved, and she wore something that could barely be described as so. At twenty-two years, Phenyo still looked a little like jail bait, which was good for her, get those creepy pedophiles… They paid pretty good. Like that one earlier. What a sucker, now she had enough for repairs for her ship, and this lovely warm drink. Humming to herself, she kicked out her legs and swung them a few times before resting her head in her arms.

Humanoid watching got pretty boring, she hadn’t spotted any suckers worth going after. Bird-Man was a failure, he was really gay, and he blushed. Pah. That blew that plan out, just once she’d like to get it on with someone at least appealing to the eye. Seemed that was too much to ask, either that, or the hot guys hand a tight hold on their purse. Sighing loudly, she gulped the rest of her warm drink, ordered another, hopefully cold one and then it hit her.

Hot guys got it for free! <I>Damn</I>!

Either that or they were semi-whores too.

Phenyo would swear by every sun in the universe she only did it when she needed money. Which wasn’t all the time, just when she couldn’t find a job or after she got fired, or after she smashed her ship into something. Phenyo did a lot of that, smashing her ship into somethings, which was why it was getting repaired. Last time she’s ever going to do a delivery, the damn repairs cost more than the fee she charged. Fucking giant space craft, was in her way.

Phenyo knew she smashed into it, she was just really bad at piloting, can fly fast, in a straight line, but that’s about it. Sighing loudly again, she watched as her drink was put in front of her, a quick sip after handing over the fee and she slumped down again. Having enough for a place to stay, or to get her ship out and repaired on time. Eh, she could wander around for a night.

Or she could spot a sucker and try and squeeze a bit out of him. Smile sweetly, give him a grope and a hug, slip his wallet out of his pocket, and take off like a bat out of hell. She’d done it a few times, had gotten caught and beaten once too, but all those other times it worked wonderfully. Get him a few drinks, make him plastered.

An evil grin sprouted upon her face and she turned around in her bar stool, her elbows resting on the counter behind her, to watch the door. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the brightly coloured gay bird-guy, catching his eye and shifting her shoulders, making him blush again. Hee, that was fun. Smirking again, the light on her face made her look almost like an over grown pixie, big eyes, little nose, plump pink lips. A downwards red triangle rested on her cheek, under her eye ending at the corner of her mouth. Two triangle stripes on her left cheek, ending under her eye, and a single stripe going from the inside of her bottom lip to the middle of her chin.

Almost like tribal tattoos, they accented her mismatched green eyes.

Made her look like a winter season holiday.

Hmm, now, to scope out her sucker and get enough money to sleep in a bed.

[Anonymous]

Asher was not, under normal circumstances, the kind of guy who ate out regularly, much less went drinking regularly. He had gotten drunk exactly once in his life, and to this day he was amazed that he had survived all the idiotic things he'd decided were a good idea that night. But more importantly, it would be impossible to convince him to drink for as long as water remained even slightly cheaper.

So why was he coming to a bar at all? That was a good question with a good answer: he was broke. He usually worked in shipping, and in the last job he'd taken, a combination of reckless piloting and poorly secured cargo had conspired to smash his last pair of glasses beyond repair. What was worse, the cargo was also damaged for the same reason, which meant they hadn't been paid as much, which meant a pay cut for the entire crew. Personally, Asher had gotten virtually nothing except his advance.

He'd been counting on that job, too. The new half-moon glasses he'd gotten as a replacement had drained over three-quarters of his account, leaving him dangerously close to the line below which he couldn't afford food. He needed a job - preferably something big. Preferably run by people who actually knew how to tie down cargo properly.

But beggars, unfortunately, couldn't be choosers. At least he didn't look poor, though. He had still pressed his shirt and vest before coming here, and his tie was painstakingly straight. Let them think he wasn't desperate; he'd probably get paid better. (Granted, he supposed he probably could have gone somewhere a little more upscale, but who ever looked for deckhands in the good part of the station? And besides, the covers ran higher at those places.)

He came in and sat down at a moderately central table, without ordering anything yet; he'd get something later, if he needed, but he'd paid the cover (albeit reluctantly), so there wasn't too much chance he'd get thrown out for not drinking. Instead he took out his handheld from his inside vest pocket and loaded up the news, but he wasn't really reading it. A close observer would notice his eyes flicking about the bar, looking for anyone who looked halfway professional, his ears peeled for any mention of a job opening.

No luck yet, though. Asher of course noticed the feathered bird-man, but that only held his eyes for a second's passing interest. The same went for the pigtailed girl at the bar, and the rest of the miscellenous guests. That was fine for now, though; the night was young, and almost undoubtedly he'd catch what he was listening for sooner or later.

That didn't stop him from discreetly glancing around every ten seconds or so, though, even if nobody new had come in. He didn't want to miss an opportunity by not paying attention, after all.