#notatelepath

Name: Mariah Demko

Blog link: not-a-telepath

Face Claim: None

Canon/Original/Verse: Original Character

Multiship/Singleship: Multiship

There was really no flattering way to describe Dregs & Kegs: It was a dive bar. And it was a real dive bar. The kind where one had to wonder if the distinct, stomach-churning smell in the air was from the mold, or whatever was left of the cleaning staff buried somewhere under the floorboards. But it sported cheap drinks and a very no-questions-asked policy regarding the legality of some of the harder stuff. Maybe it was somehow legally obtained (unlikely), or maybe it was only one step below medicinal alcohol and distilled in someone's bathtub. But plenty of people didn't seem to mind, because the bartenders kept it flowing so long as you stayed on their good side. And with the neighborhood it was in, a visit from the cops was about as likely as a personal meet 'n greet with the entire Justice League.

All of this, of course, was absolute murder on Sophia's conscience. She had serious doubts that she could even throw one of the stale pretzels on the bar and not hit someone with at least a felony or two to their name. Proven or otherwise. But she couldn't turn down cheap alcohol, not with her habits. She knew she couldn't drink much, but when she did, she did it fast, and she did it hard. And even with this place's prices, it was not uncommon for a single tab to creep into triple-digit creds territory before she was through.

Most of the patrons must have sensed the sort of animosity bubbling just below the surface, because she had no trouble drinking alone at the bar. At minimum, she sported a two-stool berth to either side, and the attempts to socialize with her had been as rare as the sector's police patrols. Considering the make-up of the usual patrons, it couldn't have been because of how she looked-- she wasn't the only one dressed in black, she wasn't the only one with a shaved head, and she'd counted at least two fellow cybernetics among the crowd. One was playing darts and swearing up and down he wasn't cheating (she was), the other was drunk to the point that he was trying to swipe his creds in the wood paneling near the music system to pay for the songs he wanted to hear. From the machine with a screen displaying, in bold font, 'Out Of Order.'