Not breaking her view of the moisture on the counter, Ellen glanced to her side, seeing Daric wave at someone at the same manner as he did when she was lounging on the second floor. Thinking her moment of silence was too long, one that Daric had respectfully avoided to interrupt, Ellen looked up and flagged down the bartender. "I'll have a Corona please," she ordered. The bartender nodded and then went to the back, possibly getting a bottle from a secret stash away from the modern Martian eyes. Her family, most notably the males in her family loved the old beverage of Earth, before it was burned that is. As the bartender placed a cold bottle on the counter and opened it for her, she picked up the bottle and observed it. The gold liquid inside the slender bottle gleamed in the lights, as much as the chandelier did in the lobby. The text on the bottle had been faded and weathered with age, but in the same case as wine, the old Corona seemed to have an acquired taste when drunk a century later. "I feel like preserving the past, as we head into the future," Ellen said, though not looking at Daric. She knew he heard her, but thought his interests fell on the girl in the red dress.