"A half-truth: I know this young man is Barayas," he said, nodding to the younger tom. "Yet never did I hear the lady's fair name. Save introductions for when we arrive, however, I would hate to keep my stomach longer."
Thus BC led them, hands once more in his pockets as he picked his whistling back up. The path was seemingly normal, though an observant eye might pick up that he was avoiding the larger streets of Ikebokuro or areas of highly concentrated shopping. The sound of chatter was audible by the time they reached the aged door; some from within, the rest a block down where Denali's casino resided. He pushed the door open for the duo and allowed them in first.
The inside of the bar could be described with one color: brown. All kinds, yes, but mostly of the wooden or dulled variety. Even the beverages that lined the wine cabinet were tinged brown by their surroundings, their labels sticking out like stars in the night. Early 20th century jazz was playing in the background, the only possible source coming from a laptop. The laptop being on the counter. the counter being manned by a lanky adolescent Somali, who was fixated upon the laptop's screen until he heard the bell tinkle to signal their arrival.
Ears perked, he poked his head above the laptop, pushing his glasses up with a smile. "Aw, hey Mr. B! Glad to see you back. Cliff's out back, said something about having to 'retool his inventory'." Noticing the regular customer wasn't alone, he turned his head to the siblings and lowered the laptop's screen so he could see them properly and vice-versa. This one was a little on the pale side, an obvious gamer by the triforce logo on his shirt and general "nerdy" appearance. Oddly, the tom's tail wasn't in view. "Been making new friends, huh?"
"Somewhat. Are you able to make a meal within a reasonable time?"
"Sure thing, Mr. B. What're you three looking for?"
Thus BC led them, hands once more in his pockets as he picked his whistling back up. The path was seemingly normal, though an observant eye might pick up that he was avoiding the larger streets of Ikebokuro or areas of highly concentrated shopping. The sound of chatter was audible by the time they reached the aged door; some from within, the rest a block down where Denali's casino resided. He pushed the door open for the duo and allowed them in first.
The inside of the bar could be described with one color: brown. All kinds, yes, but mostly of the wooden or dulled variety. Even the beverages that lined the wine cabinet were tinged brown by their surroundings, their labels sticking out like stars in the night. Early 20th century jazz was playing in the background, the only possible source coming from a laptop. The laptop being on the counter. the counter being manned by a lanky adolescent Somali, who was fixated upon the laptop's screen until he heard the bell tinkle to signal their arrival.
Ears perked, he poked his head above the laptop, pushing his glasses up with a smile. "Aw, hey Mr. B! Glad to see you back. Cliff's out back, said something about having to 'retool his inventory'." Noticing the regular customer wasn't alone, he turned his head to the siblings and lowered the laptop's screen so he could see them properly and vice-versa. This one was a little on the pale side, an obvious gamer by the triforce logo on his shirt and general "nerdy" appearance. Oddly, the tom's tail wasn't in view. "Been making new friends, huh?"
"Somewhat. Are you able to make a meal within a reasonable time?"
"Sure thing, Mr. B. What're you three looking for?"
