It'd been a while since Felix had gone to the bar, much less one of this class. Slateport's lower pubs were usually enough to help him garner his own filling and to be frank, the general hadn't gotten many spare funds to spend on luxurious cocktails. But thanks to Belial Stone kindly scheduling him to attend a local meeting in the area, he had been thrust into this foreign environment.

Solid footsteps slugged their way to the bar, as the meeting's conclusions had been drawn out an extra hour and had effectively drained every bit of life from the already soulless general. "A Moscow Mule," He sighed at the bartender. It wasn't his typical order, but he needed something strong enough to snap him back to reality.

Nimble fingers went to work at his tie, then his top buttons, then finally his shelves. Eventually, he'd fully assimilate into the after office-hours culture of your stereotypical white color worker.

Eyes glancing at the woman beside him, Felix stole the first sip of his drink.

@tag

A pair of tired, half-lidded eyes flicked towards the sudden voice. They stayed there for a moment, silent, as if contemplating whether the woman was worth engaging with. His night was already rough as it stood, so the idea of interacting with a stranger was, well, less than enticing.

However, for better or for worse, he eventually relented, answering her question with a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Yeah."

A golden indented cup found its way into his hands a moment after. He took a sip from it before continuing, "...you?"

It wasn't much-- but hey, Felix isn't exactly a conversationalist.

Summer Atreides

This time he turned to the woman, eyes both dull and at the same time, lightly interested. Maybe it was because of alcohol, or maybe it was what she had said. It didn't matter. Either way, she had managed to capture the rarity that was Felix's attention after a particularly draining afternoon.

"I agree." He nodded, voice gruff and strained. Lifting his cup to his lips, the sour liquid worked wonders on his throat, burning it just enough to spark a hint of life back into his body.

An eyebrow quirked upward, Felix's eyes slowly took note of the woman beside him, giving her a long, curious look before eventually deciding to inquire further. "Is that what you're looking for tonight? Some company?"

Summer Atreides

Her response earned itself a nod, then a long sip. He could that he'd need more than one drink if this conversation were to continue much further.



"I'm just looking for something to occupy my mind."



It was a direct admittance, but to be honest, he didn't quite care to hide his exhaustion or his desire for a...distraction. Finishing his drink, he gestured to the bartender for enough one before returning his stony gaze back to the woman.

Summer Atreides

Her suggestion lit the wick of his interest.

Another Moscow mule had returned to his hand, and with it, came the sweet relief of it's effects.

"What's your name?"

It wasn't a question he asked often, but the allure of the night had done it's work on him enough

Summer Atreides

Felix Gallagher was the definition of a mistake, unfortunately.

Terrible at communicating, apathetic as all hell, and unaware of the feelings of those around him -- he was a walking, talking, shooting red flag.

But he held a few benefits as well. Strong, muscular arms; piercing green almond-shaped eyes; rough, callous-covered hands; razor-sharp jawline.

"Felix."

Summer Atreides

"Sure."

Why decline a free escape from reality? Especially when the alternative seemed so...bleak.

Rising, his hand reached out towards the woman, ready to accept either one in return, or if she allowed it, wrap around her waist.

Either way, he'd lean down towards her ear and whisper gruffly, "Lead the way."

Summer Atreides