Azrael wasn't sure why he had decided to go somewhere else. He had just felt the need to wander and in his state he had found himself at a dingy bar. It wasn't too far off from his own, but dirtier. The smells were stronger, the atmosphere a bit rougher and he was starting to wonder if they ever cleaned the floor from the moment his foot tore away from it with a stick, horrid noise.
Shaking his head, he walked up to the bar and ordered a whiskey, looking to see a face he was sure he had seen on the network before. She did not look happy. Maybe she had come to drink alone, maybe not. The fact that she had isolated herself from everyone else in the dark spoke volumes but Azrael also understood that was sometimes when a person needed someone to talk to more than ever. Azrael would find out soon enough.
He asked for a second whiskey, paid for the drinks and walked over to where she was sitting, sliding the drink in front of her. "You okay?" he asked, his voice rough like he had been swallowing sandpaper, but still warm enough. His expression looked concerned.