The little hole-in-the-wall bar was absolutely teeming with people. This far above maximum occupancy the only room left was standing room and as one approached the bar,  the solid polished chunk of (faux)  cherrywood that served as an oases in a den of excess,  the dull roar became a very real one. The only way to describe it is to say it was not unlike walking into a solid wall of sound. That raucious Ork laugh at the joke his buddy made about having shagged his mom?  Yeah, that was like a little punch in the eardrums,  just like the drunken  giggle from the elven barfly taking up the stool at corner bar as she decided now was a good time to announce -just- how innebriated she was. God bless her.<br/><br/>Knee deep in the middle of all this,  selflessly serving behind the bar that acted as a would-be altar for most of the drunks here were two bartenders. One was a big gent named Bruce and he was definitely a regular and had probably served the crew more times than one could count. A human in his early twenties , Bruce had the build of a man who looked like he lived in the gym when he wasn't tending bar at The Crown. With big , broad shoulders that stressed thr cotton of his plain white shirt and standing at an impressive 6'5" tall there was a reason the young man bounced as much as he served alcohol but from just talking to him you'd have never guess.  He was a quiet young man with a gentle southern twang to his voice. When then gin and tonic was ordered he simply shook his head and laughed , the light catching on his polished bald head. " You come to a bar that runs beer specials every night and you still order the liquor. I feel bad for your head in the morning. " With a gentle grin he sent his customer on his merry way with a drink in hand before turning to take another.<br/><br/>The other bartender well.. she was somewhat of a wild card. A new face , albeit a pretty one.  Petite and sporting an appropriately lithe build 'Raven' as she liked to be called was skinny , even for an elf.  Her skin was dark like coffee and her eyes a deep,  almost black brown that just screamed 'Aztlander!'. If that didn't do it then her accent certainly did,  with heavy hints of the ancient Mayan language accenting her every word. One thing was definifely certain about her is that she was quickly working her way into being a crowd favorite with het pleasant looks and chic form fitting clothes. It also helped that her thin tanktop left little to the imagination whenever she bent down to fetch something below the bar, something a surprising number of orders seemed to require tonight.<br/><br/>She's the one who handles Sanjuro's order , flashing the cybered up human a cheeky smile after he flirts with her in broken English. With a casual flick of her head the dark skinned woman shifts the bangs of her black,  shaggy cut hair away from her eyes and picks up a glass. With practiced ease she fills the chilled pilsner with a deep amber colored lager, carefully setting the pint down and succeeding in not spilling the head. " That one's on the house for the smile but don't let my girlfriend catch you saying that. " With a wink she turns her back and takes another order,  practically raking in the nuyen on a busy night like tonight<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>