That wasn't her style, though.
"A bottle of...of...Firewhisky, I guess," Natasha said, and then backtracked. "Actually, I'll just take the distilled bottle. I'm not too fond of getting drunk."
The bartender, a large muscular man with tattoos, grunted and passed it over. "Two sickles."
"Gracias," Natasha said, and then blushed. "I mean, thank you." She passed over the sickles and sat down at a nearby table, keeping her wand read at her hand.
"Hey sugar," said a drunken man. "Wanna dance with me?"
"Go away," Natasha said nervously, combing a hand through her hair and looking around for a way to escape.
There really wasn't. Other than to blast the man away.
Eep.
Wed May 21, 2014 2:20 am by Guest
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