welcome to meridian prime

"The galaxywide theatrical release won't be for another few months, but the Polarian Film Festival will premiere in two weeks." Clank smoothly slid a datapad over to Cat. "Invitation only."

The datapad had Cat's full name on it and entitled her to admission to the festival opening of Blargian Pompeii. At the bottom were Ratchet and Clank's e-signatures and the production company's name, Aphelion Films, Inc.

"For all the years you've treated us well, Miss Nyx," he said with a warm tone.

“Oooh, the film festival, sounds swank— ”

Cat’s ears snap upward and she covers her mouth as she gasps, eyes immediately wide and starry.

“Clank! I couldn’t — !”

“Sure you could!” Ratchet chimes in. “Come on, every other word out of your mouth since Labor Day’s been that you wanna go to a party.”

“Well, yes, but this is…! I’m — “ Catrina fans her eyes frantically, almost jumping out of her skin in excitement as she looks between Ratchet and Clank. “I, I don’t know what to say!”

"Say that you will go," Clank added with as wry a smile a robot could muster. "A mutual friend of ours had to remind me not to work too hard. I found it prudent to share that same advice with you."

Cat looks like she isn’t sure whether to cry or go wilder than a kid in a candy store. She knows the bot isn’t the touchy-feely sort, but she still half-pitches herself across the bar, squealing, first hugging around his small shoulders and then briefly tackling Ratchet.

“Of course I’ll go! What time — where should we meet up? I’ll need to get a new dress!”

Cat’s brows furrow as the lemur stands up and walks out chomping her ice cubes like candy.

“I don’t think so. She’s been on edge ever since she walked in. What can I get ya boys?”

Ratchet helps Clank up into a seat and sits down next to him. “Veldin sunrise, please.”

Meanwhile Gak, seeing a hovercraft pull up, hops out of her own seat and breezes through the door. “Bye, Kitty! See ya Monday!”

“Have fun! And you, Clank?”

"The galaxywide theatrical release won't be for another few months, but the Polarian Film Festival will premiere in two weeks." Clank smoothly slid a datapad over to Cat. "Invitation only."

The datapad had Cat's full name on it and entitled her to admission to the festival opening of Blargian Pompeii. At the bottom were Ratchet and Clank's e-signatures and the production company's name, Aphelion Films, Inc.

"For all the years you've treated us well, Miss Nyx," he said with a warm tone.

“Oooh, the film festival, sounds swank— ”

Cat’s ears snap upward and she covers her mouth as she gasps, eyes immediately wide and starry.

“Clank! I couldn’t — !”

“Sure you could!” Ratchet chimes in. “Come on, every other word out of your mouth since Labor Day’s been that you wanna go to a party.”

“Well, yes, but this is…! I’m — “ Catrina fans her eyes frantically, almost jumping out of her skin in excitement as she looks between Ratchet and Clank. “I, I don’t know what to say!”

#late 😭

Cat’s brows furrow as the lemur stands up and walks out chomping her ice cubes like candy.

“I don’t think so. She’s been on edge ever since she walked in. What can I get ya boys?”

Ratchet helps Clank up into a seat and sits down next to him. “Veldin sunrise, please.”

Meanwhile Gak, seeing a hovercraft pull up, hops out of her own seat and breezes through the door. “Bye, Kitty! See ya Monday!”

“Have fun! And you, Clank?”

"Do you serve Pokitaru Paradise here? Please substitute the alcohol with 40F30 motor oil, of course," said Clank with his trademark giggle.

. . .

"Your intel was good. Hesperion's here."

"Present tense. So you refrained from killing him?"

"What do you think?"

"You follow scripts well, Miss Bernard. You sure you don't want to pursue a career in show business?"

"Fuck you, Vox."

The other voice let out a sleazy giggle. "You are a feisty one! We'll send our boys over soon. Why don't you take the night off? I heard Meridian Prime's an underrated gem."

She ended the transmission.

The lemur was perched on top of a skyscraper, watching an influx of people heading towards Meridian Prime after the ice show ended. It would have been best for her to leave before so many people suddenly surrounded her anyway, but him showing up of all people threw a wrench in her plans, almost literally.

I figured not all Lombaxes knew each other...why'd the bartender have to make this harder?

Meanwhile, Cat is still chuckling as she spins her shaker on one finger. “Do I serve it, he asks me?” She pours out and garnishes Clank’s drink with a micro spark plug, Ratchet’s with a prickly pear flower, and makes a spectacle of flipping their tray fast enough to not lose the glasses right before serving.

“Eyyy!” Ratchet cheers at her stunt. “Still showboating, I see.”

“Gotta find my fun somewhere. And speakin’ of showbiz…” Cat flips her hawk out of her eyes and leans on an elbow towards Clank, pulling her soda up. “I hope The Producer here ain’t runnin’ himself into the ground.”

Clank applauded the theatrics, as well as several people within his film crew. The team had finished shooting "Blargian Pompeii," a tragedy holofilm about a family Blargs too poor to afford to go offworld when Orxon became too polluted for organic life. Despite their best efforts to save enough bolts through working, unforeseen circumstances eventually prevented all of them from leaving in time. To celebrate the end of shooting, Clank bought the entire crew tickets to the ice show and several rounds of drinks at Meridian Prime. Revelry and levity were sure to keep the place busy for the next few hours.

"Do not worry, Miss Nyx. Ratchet has been an excellent co-producer. I could not have done it without his help."

Ratchet laughs around his first sip. “Co-producer’s a strong word, I just showed up and didn’t know what I was doing the whole time. He’s literally the brains of the operation.”

“Proud of the both of ya’s. When’s the premiere, then?”

Cat’s brows furrow as the lemur stands up and walks out chomping her ice cubes like candy.

“I don’t think so. She’s been on edge ever since she walked in. What can I get ya boys?”

Ratchet helps Clank up into a seat and sits down next to him. “Veldin sunrise, please.”

Meanwhile Gak, seeing a hovercraft pull up, hops out of her own seat and breezes through the door. “Bye, Kitty! See ya Monday!”

“Have fun! And you, Clank?”

"Do you serve Pokitaru Paradise here? Please substitute the alcohol with 40F30 motor oil, of course," said Clank with his trademark giggle.

. . .

"Your intel was good. Hesperion's here."

"Present tense. So you refrained from killing him?"

"What do you think?"

"You follow scripts well, Miss Bernard. You sure you don't want to pursue a career in show business?"

"Fuck you, Vox."

The other voice let out a sleazy giggle. "You are a feisty one! We'll send our boys over soon. Why don't you take the night off? I heard Meridian Prime's an underrated gem."

She ended the transmission.

The lemur was perched on top of a skyscraper, watching an influx of people heading towards Meridian Prime after the ice show ended. It would have been best for her to leave before so many people suddenly surrounded her anyway, but him showing up of all people threw a wrench in her plans, almost literally.

I figured not all Lombaxes knew each other...why'd the bartender have to make this harder?

Meanwhile, Cat is still chuckling as she spins her shaker on one finger. “Do I serve it, he asks me?” She pours out and garnishes Clank’s drink with a micro spark plug, Ratchet’s with a prickly pear flower, and makes a spectacle of flipping their tray fast enough to not lose the glasses right before serving.

“Eyyy!” Ratchet cheers at her stunt. “Still showboating, I see.”

“Gotta find my fun somewhere. And speakin’ of showbiz…” Cat flips her hawk out of her eyes and leans on an elbow towards Clank, pulling her soda up. “I hope The Producer here ain’t runnin’ himself into the ground.”

Cat doesn’t reply right away, as she checks on some taps.

Mercenary or veteran, is the read Cat is getting. She’s almost casing the joint, like she’s expecting to be jumped. She’s completely shutting down any attempt to chat — not just dodging but swatting it away like a fly. She’s already had more to drink in five minutes than some do on a weekend, and she’s not even a little relaxed.

She sees this type every now and then — she sees all types in her line of work. Aliens and robots; either way, the merc/vet types can’t seem to let loose and give themselves a break. Not unless a mate who’s also played the game shows up, and, well…she’s not looking much like she’s waiting for a buddy.

It’s not that she needs the customer to be happy.

….okay yes she does, she and Gak were having a nice time and she’d been excited to have someone else to talk to since Gak will be heading out once her friends zoom up.

She just needs her to relax a little.

“What’s your name?”

The lemur was silent at first, sipping her second drink. Again, half the cup just...disappeared, with Liv not feeling so much as a buzz.

The Lombax really knew how to mix drinks, however. Perhaps she deserved at least that.

"I'm...I'm nobody important." Telling her who she was could have made her job a bit more...complicated. The Lombax wasn't stupid; the lemur could tell that she knew a lot more than she let on. Perhaps she even clocked the lemur as a mercenary already. That itself wasn't an issue, but if the Lombax had any sort of connection to the lemur's target, she couldn't risk her mission being compromised.

Even though she wasn't feeling a buzz, her poker face was fading, making it slightly more obvious to onlookers that she was trying to hide something. Still, something about the Lombax was slowly eroding a few of her defenses—

She quickly turned towards the door, her ear twitching. Was someone coming?

Cat’s ears also perk up as Gak spins in her chair to greet the newcomer.

“Hi, Ratchet!”

“Hey, Gak!”

“Ohhh no!” Cat points a cocktail umbrella at him. “What’d I tell ya about comin’ here, ya lightweight?”

“I dunno, I couldn’t hear you from all the way down there!”

“Look who’s talking!” She laughs as Ratchet does. “Welcome back. Is Clank with ya?”

Clank hopped off Ratchet's back and smiled at the two women. "Good evening, Miss Nyx, Miss Gak. Making new friends, I see."

The lemur turned back to the bartender before finishing off her second cup, crunching the ice in her mouth before turning the cup upside down on the counter. Without another word, she activated her PDA and paid her tab before leaving the counter.

Clank had a concerned look in his eyes as he asked, "Er, did I say something wrong?"

Cat’s brows furrow as the lemur stands up and walks out chomping her ice cubes like candy.

“I don’t think so. She’s been on edge ever since she walked in. What can I get ya boys?”

Ratchet helps Clank up into a seat and sits down next to him. “Veldin sunrise, please.”

Meanwhile Gak, seeing a hovercraft pull up, hops out of her own seat and breezes through the door. “Bye, Kitty! See ya Monday!”

“Have fun! And you, Clank?”

Cat doesn’t reply right away, as she checks on some taps.

Mercenary or veteran, is the read Cat is getting. She’s almost casing the joint, like she’s expecting to be jumped. She’s completely shutting down any attempt to chat — not just dodging but swatting it away like a fly. She’s already had more to drink in five minutes than some do on a weekend, and she’s not even a little relaxed.

She sees this type every now and then — she sees all types in her line of work. Aliens and robots; either way, the merc/vet types can’t seem to let loose and give themselves a break. Not unless a mate who’s also played the game shows up, and, well…she’s not looking much like she’s waiting for a buddy.

It’s not that she needs the customer to be happy.

….okay yes she does, she and Gak were having a nice time and she’d been excited to have someone else to talk to since Gak will be heading out once her friends zoom up.

She just needs her to relax a little.

“What’s your name?”

The lemur was silent at first, sipping her second drink. Again, half the cup just...disappeared, with Liv not feeling so much as a buzz.

The Lombax really knew how to mix drinks, however. Perhaps she deserved at least that.

"I'm...I'm nobody important." Telling her who she was could have made her job a bit more...complicated. The Lombax wasn't stupid; the lemur could tell that she knew a lot more than she let on. Perhaps she even clocked the lemur as a mercenary already. That itself wasn't an issue, but if the Lombax had any sort of connection to the lemur's target, she couldn't risk her mission being compromised.

Even though she wasn't feeling a buzz, her poker face was fading, making it slightly more obvious to onlookers that she was trying to hide something. Still, something about the Lombax was slowly eroding a few of her defenses—

She quickly turned towards the door, her ear twitching. Was someone coming?

Cat’s ears also perk up as Gak spins in her chair to greet the newcomer.

“Hi, Ratchet!”

“Hey, Gak!”

“Ohhh no!” Cat points a cocktail umbrella at him. “What’d I tell ya about comin’ here, ya lightweight?”

“I dunno, I couldn’t hear you from all the way down there!”

“Look who’s talking!” She laughs as Ratchet does. “Welcome back. Is Clank with ya?”

Gak shuts the till with a gasp. “Girl, what did he do?!”

Cat waves at her to tone it down, pouring with the other hand. “Yes ma’am. But, before I’m done…ya want a cute little garnish on it?” She points at a dish of little skewers she’s made with star berries and gooey izo crystals. “I’ve got them there, and I’ve got pink umbrellas.”

The lemur's interface showed her the schematics of the bar as well as surrounding establishments, suggesting the stealthiest, most efficient entry points, all within half a second.

"That's assuming I go to one. Not like anyone would want me around."

You'd never see me if I went, though.

Cat doesn’t reply right away, as she checks on some taps.

Mercenary or veteran, is the read Cat is getting. She’s almost casing the joint, like she’s expecting to be jumped. She’s completely shutting down any attempt to chat — not just dodging but swatting it away like a fly. She’s already had more to drink in five minutes than some do on a weekend, and she’s not even a little relaxed.

She sees this type every now and then — she sees all types in her line of work. Aliens and robots; either way, the merc/vet types can’t seem to let loose and give themselves a break. Not unless a mate who’s also played the game shows up, and, well…she’s not looking much like she’s waiting for a buddy.

It’s not that she needs the customer to be happy.

….okay yes she does, she and Gak were having a nice time and she’d been excited to have someone else to talk to since Gak will be heading out once her friends zoom up.

She just needs her to relax a little.

“What’s your name?”

Gak shuts the till with a gasp. “Girl, what did he do?!”

Cat waves at her to tone it down, pouring with the other hand. “Yes ma’am. But, before I’m done…ya want a cute little garnish on it?” She points at a dish of little skewers she’s made with star berries and gooey izo crystals. “I’ve got them there, and I’ve got pink umbrellas.”

What didn't he do? He ambushed me, damn near killed me, and ruined my life. Hope he doesn't find Igor...

As if on cue, her visual interface pulled up a search in Polaris government records of the aforementioned Igor. As far as the records could tell, he was still alive. She didn't ask for the interface to do that, but it was a slight comfort for her regardless.

She ignored the robot's question, though the way she turned her head away from it implied she was hiding and carrying something grievous. Her tail rose slightly in anguish.

She shook her head at the bartender. "I don't need any of that fancy shit. Save that for your 'esteemed clientele' later." The ones who expect to see past tomorrow...

Catrina tops the glass off and passes it to the customer with no further deliberation. It’s hard to get a read on the lady, but it’s painfully clear she’s had a rough day and is in no mood to laugh it off.

“Need anything else from me, Miss Kitty?”

“I think we’re all set ‘til Minok comes in. Ya gonna hang about?”

“Yeah, maybe just one drink.”

Cat twirls an ice cream scoop. “Sparkling sludge shake?”

“What am I gonna do, say no?”

The robot, Gak, chuckles and takes a chair on the other side of the bar, respectfully putting a couple seats between the new customer and herself, while Cat starts concocting what looks like a root beer float with motor oil instead of root beer. As she works and Gak checks her comm, the Lombax watches the new customer with her drink out the corner of her eye.

“Ya ever seen it, lovey? Ice dancing comedy?”

It burns the same, but I should feel buzzed by now. I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. If these "upgrades" made me drunk-proof, I'm pistol-whipping someone...

The lemur had tuned out the moment she got her drink. By the time the Lombax addressed her, she'd already finished half her drink.

With a hollow look in her eyes, she looked over to the bartender. "You really think I have the bolts for that shit?"

She can see Gak cringe a little, but she’s undeterred.

“Who said anything about bolts? If ya head in through the bar side and act like you’re meeting some mates there…” Cat raises a mischievous brow and sips her soda. “Not that I’ve been over there in a while. I like a bit of a rowdier scene. How about yourself?”

Cat isn’t sure why but she feels compelled to try and coax this customer out of her shell. It’s hard even for her to tell when she’s doing it out of professional hospitality or genuine interest in the customer.

The lemur took a large sip, ice clinking inside as she finished her drink in two sips. "I'm not exactly the 'charm my way into the function' type of girl."

I'm the type to kill you at the bar for putting shit in my drink type of girl.

Not that she assumed the Lombax would do so...but you couldn't be too careful.

"Another. Please." Her tone softened as she slid the cup of ice towards the Lombax.

“You bet, Miss, ah…” Cat trails off, prompting for a name.

Damn, Cat’s seen more than her fair share of heavy drinkers but this one…hollow leg and arms? Seeing as she looks fine for now, Cat works on the second drink.

Gak is happily sipping her shake while texting a friend about her plans for the rest of the evening.

“So then, how do ya get into the function?” Cat leans her elbows on the bar (it’s more of a propping up than leaning over, at her diminutive height) with a conspiratorial little smile.

Gak shuts the till with a gasp. “Girl, what did he do?!”

Cat waves at her to tone it down, pouring with the other hand. “Yes ma’am. But, before I’m done…ya want a cute little garnish on it?” She points at a dish of little skewers she’s made with star berries and gooey izo crystals. “I’ve got them there, and I’ve got pink umbrellas.”

What didn't he do? He ambushed me, damn near killed me, and ruined my life. Hope he doesn't find Igor...

As if on cue, her visual interface pulled up a search in Polaris government records of the aforementioned Igor. As far as the records could tell, he was still alive. She didn't ask for the interface to do that, but it was a slight comfort for her regardless.

She ignored the robot's question, though the way she turned her head away from it implied she was hiding and carrying something grievous. Her tail rose slightly in anguish.

She shook her head at the bartender. "I don't need any of that fancy shit. Save that for your 'esteemed clientele' later." The ones who expect to see past tomorrow...

Catrina tops the glass off and passes it to the customer with no further deliberation. It’s hard to get a read on the lady, but it’s painfully clear she’s had a rough day and is in no mood to laugh it off.

“Need anything else from me, Miss Kitty?”

“I think we’re all set ‘til Minok comes in. Ya gonna hang about?”

“Yeah, maybe just one drink.”

Cat twirls an ice cream scoop. “Sparkling sludge shake?”

“What am I gonna do, say no?”

The robot, Gak, chuckles and takes a chair on the other side of the bar, respectfully putting a couple seats between the new customer and herself, while Cat starts concocting what looks like a root beer float with motor oil instead of root beer. As she works and Gak checks her comm, the Lombax watches the new customer with her drink out the corner of her eye.

“Ya ever seen it, lovey? Ice dancing comedy?”

It burns the same, but I should feel buzzed by now. I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. If these "upgrades" made me drunk-proof, I'm pistol-whipping someone...

The lemur had tuned out the moment she got her drink. By the time the Lombax addressed her, she'd already finished half her drink.

With a hollow look in her eyes, she looked over to the bartender. "You really think I have the bolts for that shit?"

She can see Gak cringe a little, but she’s undeterred.

“Who said anything about bolts? If ya head in through the bar side and act like you’re meeting some mates there…” Cat raises a mischievous brow and sips her soda. “Not that I’ve been over there in a while. I like a bit of a rowdier scene. How about yourself?”

Cat isn’t sure why but she feels compelled to try and coax this customer out of her shell. It’s hard even for her to tell when she’s doing it out of professional hospitality or genuine interest in the customer.

Gak shuts the till with a gasp. “Girl, what did he do?!”

Cat waves at her to tone it down, pouring with the other hand. “Yes ma’am. But, before I’m done…ya want a cute little garnish on it?” She points at a dish of little skewers she’s made with star berries and gooey izo crystals. “I’ve got them there, and I’ve got pink umbrellas.”

What didn't he do? He ambushed me, damn near killed me, and ruined my life. Hope he doesn't find Igor...

As if on cue, her visual interface pulled up a search in Polaris government records of the aforementioned Igor. As far as the records could tell, he was still alive. She didn't ask for the interface to do that, but it was a slight comfort for her regardless.

She ignored the robot's question, though the way she turned her head away from it implied she was hiding and carrying something grievous. Her tail rose slightly in anguish.

She shook her head at the bartender. "I don't need any of that fancy shit. Save that for your 'esteemed clientele' later." The ones who expect to see past tomorrow...

Catrina tops the glass off and passes it to the customer with no further deliberation. It’s hard to get a read on the lady, but it’s painfully clear she’s had a rough day and is in no mood to laugh it off.

“Need anything else from me, Miss Kitty?”

“I think we’re all set ‘til Minok comes in. Ya gonna hang about?”

“Yeah, maybe just one drink.”

Cat twirls an ice cream scoop. “Sparkling sludge shake?”

“What am I gonna do, say no?”

The robot, Gak, chuckles and takes a chair on the other side of the bar, respectfully putting a couple seats between the new customer and herself, while Cat starts concocting what looks like a root beer float with motor oil instead of root beer. As she works and Gak checks her comm, the Lombax watches the new customer with her drink out the corner of her eye.

“Ya ever seen it, lovey? Ice dancing comedy?”

Cat, chewing gum, scoffs and points her thumb over her shoulder, up the street. “Yeah? Just wait ‘til that ice dancing comedy show lets out. Nah, what can I get ya, love?”

She turned back to the bar, ears perking up slightly upon confirmation that the place was still open. "I need a pint. Three quarters whiskey, one quarter cola, on the rocks." She walked to the bar and sat on the stool, eyes darting to the robotic entity beside the Lombax, information about the robot's parts flashing in her eyes. It had the same level of sapience as an organic citizen, far removed from the simple helper bots seen elsewhere in the city. As for the Lombax, the threat assessment from one quick scan didn't even rate her a fraction as high as her target.

The lemur felt a raging headache build up, clenching her jaw again. The Lombax ought to have mixed her drink fast.

“Three quar—“ Cat’s brows disappear behind her wispy fringe as she scoops ice. “Ya want me to fill up a pint, three quarters with whiskey, top with cola? Just want to be clear before I nearly kill ‘ya.”

Gak is glancing up from her balance sheet In surreptitious surprise.

"Not like I'll be missed if you do." Her stare grew slightly impatient, yet morose. "I said what I said."

The lemur was a young woman as well, but her eyes held untold stories of grief. The pint wouldn't kill her, but hopefully it'd help her forget for a while...

Though if it did kill her, at least she wouldn't have to deal with ice showgoers.

#ic #oh no liv now you’ve done it #your sadness has awakened the girl code

Gak shuts the till with a gasp. “Girl, what did he do?!”

Cat waves at her to tone it down, pouring with the other hand. “Yes ma’am. But, before I’m done…ya want a cute little garnish on it?” She points at a dish of little skewers she’s made with star berries and gooey izo crystals. “I’ve got them there, and I’ve got pink umbrellas.”

Cat, chewing gum, scoffs and points her thumb over her shoulder, up the street. “Yeah? Just wait ‘til that ice dancing comedy show lets out. Nah, what can I get ya, love?”

She turned back to the bar, ears perking up slightly upon confirmation that the place was still open. "I need a pint. Three quarters whiskey, one quarter cola, on the rocks." She walked to the bar and sat on the stool, eyes darting to the robotic entity beside the Lombax, information about the robot's parts flashing in her eyes. It had the same level of sapience as an organic citizen, far removed from the simple helper bots seen elsewhere in the city. As for the Lombax, the threat assessment from one quick scan didn't even rate her a fraction as high as her target.

The lemur felt a raging headache build up, clenching her jaw again. The Lombax ought to have mixed her drink fast.

“Three quar—“ Cat’s brows disappear behind her wispy fringe as she scoops ice. “Ya want me to fill up a pint, three quarters with whiskey, top with cola? Just want to be clear before I nearly kill ‘ya.”

Gak is glancing up from her balance sheet In surreptitious surprise.

An anthropomorphic lemur woman stepped inside Meridian Prime wearing a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and light brown cowgirl boots. She had light grey fur and a tail with black rings throughout it, piercing eyes with yellow sclerae and brown irises. She had a somewhat petite build, only standing at about 5'2" with narrow shoulders.

She scanned the area, seemingly looking for something before heading towards the bar, an ever-present scowl on her face, her eyes squinting, then widening as she locked eyes with the bartender, a look of familiarity on her face.

“All’s I’m sayin’, Gak, is that it weren’t a total waste of your time if ya saw Enrique there,” a small voice, with an accent from pre-war Fastoon, pipes up to a young robot woman behind the bar. “So what if he saw it weren’t going well with Kyle? He won’t be too surprised if you call him up.”

Gak is counting up from the till and filling a balance sheet, but she’s listening. “Call him up and what, Cat? Ask if he wants Kyle’s sloppy seconds - OW!” A cocktail umbrella flies up and bounces off Gak’s head. “I know, I know, be nice to your friends!!”

“You’re nobody’s sloppy seconds. But I am saying you ask him out. Ya said you wanted more experience dating? Think of him as just a practice date if it’ll take the pressure off — hang on!”

The speaker’s notices as Gak looks toward the lemur approaching the bar. A pair of fuzzy ears, pink sand and burgundy, appear above the bar right before the tiny Lombax who wears them climbs up a stepladder to see the new patron.

“Hiya! How’s it going?”

She blinked as an irritating itch developed in her eyes, the lemur clenching her jaw before the sensation went away. Wrong one. It would take a while to get used to the implants. "Shit. Looks like you're closed." I'd been in that position before. No need to be a nuisance. Don't know how many friends he has...

Cat, chewing gum, scoffs and points her thumb over her shoulder, up the street. “Yeah? Just wait ‘til that ice dancing comedy show lets out. Nah, what can I get ya, love?”