Alecta hadn't really come to Portland with a specific purpose in mind. She thought she'd tracked a good lead on a monster only for it to escape to parts unknown without her being able to do a damned thing about it. Right now, she was just about ready to spend a night drinking herself and the people around her into a stupor.
She waved a hand at the bartender when she entered, throwing a twenty on the table. "Don't care what it is as long as it's strong."
Still not embarrassing enough to stan billionaires or tech companies.In one corner seat, a woman sat with a sword beside her. She looked...good. In fact one might actually describe her a bit 'action-star'-y, not helped by the camo-pattern jeans and the dogtags around her neck.
All of which people might notice if they weren't distracted by the bright pink Hell Kitty sheath of the sword.
How long will you humiliate me like this? Kushiel grumped in her head. Faking taking a sip of her beer, she murmured a "Well, next time think before you make jokes about my taste in men." she told the sword with a raised eyebrow.
Then maybe choose someone who does not remind me of a few Neanderthals I once considered close personal friends!
Rolling her eyes, Morgan simply turned to enjoy her burger.
"You can reply to this Message!"The door to the Three Corners thumped open heavily as a giant of a woman strode into the establishment. She stood at the door way a bit to shake some water off of her umbrella, which looked almost toy like in her hands, before entering the place properly. Her black muscle shirt, with the slogan "Sun's Up, Gun's Out" emblazoned across it, clung tightly to her body despite being dry, simply because of her bulk. She had a large duffel bag slung over one shoulder as well.
She deposited her umbrella in the stand, before looking around the room. The red headed amazon, did a double take at the bright pink sword sheath. She blinked unsure of what she was actually seeing for a few moments before striding over to the blonde with the sword.
"Ach, lassie, where did you get that eyesore of a sheath? Why did you get that eyesore of a sheath?"
Click Click Boom Boom"Now laddie and lassies, you don't seem to realize mocking a Scotswoman rarely ends well for the mockers. So, I suggest you quit the jokes before I lose me temper."
Maura grins broadly and threateningly at the other three.
Click Click Boom Boom"I be Maura," she said before heading to the bar, ideally to get some Scotch if they had it.
Click Click Boom BoomThe Bartender had indeed some Whisky, a bottle that let out the smell of seaweed and peat when he opened it and put a sniffer before Maura, together with a small can of spring water.
Meanwhile, the door opened and half a dozen people walked in. Flanell shirts, beefy look and attitude, they surveyed the interior before congregating onto a few tables.
"You can reply to this Message!"Maura ignored the new arrivals in favor of pouring herself a double dram of proper Scottish whisky. She took a nice deep breath of the aroma as she poured in just a touch of the spring water and began sipping at the drink, savoring it.
Click Click Boom Boom

It was raining, but in Portland that was pretty much normal. Hey, its called 'Rainforest' for a reason?
Under the grey sky, a small roadhouse is awash in the rain. Some might argue that it is not part of Portland proper, but its owner is paying taxes there, so whore cares.
The Three Corners is not the kind of restaurant you find in an travelers guide, but it has its own charms. Among the most notable ones is that it is situated in a triangle between three weak ley lines that cross each each other and creating a small closed off area. Long ago, shamans and mystic used this place to meet and to negotiate. To do this, they used the triangle and wove a spell onto it, supplied by the magic in the ground.
Magic here is...lazy. Slow to come. Muted. It is not gone, but it the more magic you try to channel, the harder it is to draw up.
Unsurprisingly, the Three Corners that has been built here nigh a century ago is nowadays the preferred watering hole of Portlands magical community. Be they minor talents, Lycanthropes who wish to spend full moon rather in the guest rooms than out in the city, people from the forest meeting people from the city, they all come to the Three Corners, trusting its status as magical DMZ.
But today, it is a quiet day, the owner-slash-bartender wipes unused beer glasses and stares at the windows, sighing. Only a few drifters and the hardiest of patrons were here. Grabbing the next glass, he begins to wipe. Even the people here were quiet, huddled in the corners. Out of the back room the help stuck out her head, a barely 18 year old girl with a wild mop of blonde hair, shrugging at him as she sees the empty common room before heading back inside, moving to prepare the guest rooms for the drifters.
All in all, it seemed to be a slow evening.
edited 1st Jun '15 1:05:44 PM by 3of4
"You can reply to this Message!"