Stammering more and more incoherently in her novice drinker's confusion, Tori's heavy eyelids fluttered closed, and she soon passed out on the bar with a soft *fwump.*<br/><br/>The bartender cocked one eyebrow and did his best to suppress a grin at the rookie's reaction to the strong cocktail. Of course it wasn't his business to tell the customer what to order and what not to order, but even if they were punching above their weight, they were in no danger - it was not that kind of establishment.<br/><br/>"She have a room, here?"<br/><br/>He turned to the Nauelli to reply but was cut short. Many on this rock would've leapt to take advantage of the greenhorn's predicament. Hell, some bartenders had a nice little side gig setting careless newcomers up for such predators. No sir, not him. Might've been he was naive or just of the old school, but the idea of taking advantage of bar patrons for a few miserable creds was repugnant to him. But this blue girl, he thought as he eyed her keenly, she seemed genuinely concerned for the dead-drunk goat-horned one taking what was likely her first booze nap on his bar.<br/><br/>"I'll give her payment info a scan, miss," he said evenly, nodding to Vai. With a small *peep* his credfile reader, an older but well cared for model, extracted the details of Tori's current address on Bay Taua embedded in the record of the currency transfer when she'd paid for her drink, and displayed it on the sepia monochrome display. "Hrm," the bartender scrutinized the information, copying the relevant parts onto a napkin using an archaic graphite-core writing implement. "Miss," he began, his polite tone hard-edged, giving Vai a scrutinizing stare, "I think you'll get her to her room without any trouble, yes?" After a moment, he held the folded napkin paper out to the young woman.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>