@brokenyowane
A hellcat walks into a bar. The hellcat doesn’t usually like to walk into bars, especially since it always sounds like the setup for a bad joke, but here she is today. She’s not here for a drink, or to see anyone, she’s just...here. Here, because she doesn’t know what she’s doing with her life. In that sense, she’s no better than the alcoholics sliding drinks up and down the counter, or the singer who’s evidently getting in some practice (because, bloody Hell, she’s awful).
If cat ears and two tails draw any attention from the people scattered around the...not-so-fine establishment, cold blue eyes serve as charms to ward off curiosity. As usual, Hailey looks like a cold and painful death taking a stroll through the metaphorical park.
The hellcat finds herself one of the empty seats by the counter. When the bartender asks her if she wants something, she silences him with a death glare. This is the only open establishment, and even though she detests alcohol, she’d rather be in here inhaling fumes than outside in the rainstorm.
