Aiden Shepard [ Abraham Van Helsing ] (arcere) wrote in bellumlogs,
Juke Joint. Aiden was silent for a moment as he placed the name in his mind and remembered that it was the place where he'd met with the others - Shane, Micah, Eliot. It wasn't bad, but ... well.
"I've been there," he said as he passed through the door she held open and started down the street. "Once. It has probably exactly the kind of atmosphere you're thinking of." And by that he meant dark, filthy, and unpleasant, but generally not too offensive. Then again, he hadn't been in many bars over the course of his life. Possibly it was a shining beacon of light and beauty in a world where bars were cesspits of filth and disease. Possibly it was the cesspit in a world of sparkling clean plastic and technological innovation. Only further bar crawling would tell.
Which, of course, he had no intention of doing.
"It's close and probably the best bet for your plans. Why not." He checked his pockets again. Yes, his wallet was still there. Aiden was vaguely tempted to sew his pocket shut to keep people from stealing it later on when he would be inevitably burdened with dragging a drunk Joanie back home, but that presented a number of immediate problems not the least of which was 'they need to card you, dumbass', so he discarded the idea almost as soon as he'd thought of it.