Gracefully, the hooded woman weaved her way through a dense crowd of loud drunkards and busy wenches, making great effort not to spill the two mugs of lager she was holding. The smokey interior of Jagged Jack's Gin Joint (Where hearts are broken, and bad habits nurtured) was teeming with workers, recklessly spending their weekly wage, and criminals of varying notoriety discussing all kinds of nefarious business subjects. The booking, Busty Barbara & The Ballroom Blues Band, transitioned from an upbeat jazzy tune and launched into a slow, murky blues. Meanwhile a brawl errupted in another corner of the pub, quickly turned into a betting, to onlookers delight.
The hooded one spotted a booth, occupied by a couple consisting of an intoxicated male laborer, and a smitten young woman wearing the Vesper sigil around her neck. She strode up and placed down the two pints on the table, carefully sending one sliding towards the heathen sister, who reacted with surprise, confusion and unease. The hooded one planted herself comfortably on the empty seat across and immediately chugged half of the brew. After wiping the froth from her mouth with the sleeve of her weathered trenchcoat, they both got a good look at eachother for the first time in a decade.
- "Good evening, Talab Saghir... Or should I call you Mallory now? Also, would you please tell Don Juan here to continue tonights endeavor elsewhere." The hooded woman said, and swigged another large portion of her beer.
- "Hah, wha? Donny who? Wha's this about, who are you?" The man asked, confused and amused, as he placed a firm hand on Mallory's hip, pulling her closer.
- "You tardy or something? I was politely urging you to fuck off. Now please, do so..." She took a pause to gulp the last mouthful of beer left in her glass.
- "Your dear ladyfriend and I have some important catching up to do, don't we, Ms Robinson?" She said, with a broad grin and smacked the empty mug down on the table. Mallory had never seen such a quirky smile adorning that face. It suited her well.