If there was one thing about her new fixer that Anna could lament about, it was her taste in bars. The Crown was a clammy and dusty place in Anna's opinion. The sort of bar that looked liked it might've missed the resurgence of magic and all that jazz. And tonight, there were so many people stuffed inside it that there barely was left any space to move. What good is a bar you can't dance in anyway? There was no music either, just the noise of the sports trideo barely heard over the general ruckus of the crowd. Anna longed for the sweet haze of lights, drugs, music and sweating bodies mixing in one dance rhythm that beat through your core hours after you've gone home. The absence of all that in this crummy bar left Anna boh-ored! It showed too! Her long hair cascaded down her face with a dull orange colour, while the tips shifted into icy blue. Her comm-link streamed music directly into her skull, but it couldn't drown the din of crowd. Anna couldn't even play any of her simsense recordings either! Who knew when that dwarf fixer could get here?<br/><br/>Anna sure didn't, she'd only done one small run for Martha before, but that one had left a good impression of how well the fixer did her job. Though she'd been late that time too, hadn't she? Anna couldn't really remember. The elf changeling didn't exactly have a track record off keeping clean when she had to, but hey, the itch wasn't there tonight, nor was the mood. Lounging against a wall, she waited for either Martha to show up, or some guy or gal to buy her a drink. She was surprised not had yet, honestly. She had left her synthleather cloak in the car, along with her real gear. She could put that all on over her normal clothes in less than ten minutes if the run was particulary time sensitive anyway. So there was plenty of room for people to ogle at her tight top, perhaps her piercings and the chains hanging from her trousers were intimidating them?<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>