|| @diablosadvocate
samson had been avoiding the bar to start with, not having been much of a drinker even before the power manifested. an odd beer here or there, but mostly social. with how little of a social life he’d allowed himself before? maybe not so much, at all.
dark henley, jeans, and boots; nothing fancy, but clearly an ‘outdoorsy’ vibe, before he goes to check out where the others seem to go. if this is gonna be his crowd when he’s not knee-deep in dirt, then he might as well learn what he can.
the somewhat lit room let him remain unassuming, but he stepped around any shadows on his path from the door to the bar counter. sliding over a stool, samson folded over a bit to lean on the wood, hands on his elbows. if the bartender notices him, he’ll give a small smile and a nod, but not attempt to interrupt the man from his work.
