@ofdahliasandroses
Delilah usually hates bars. They remind her of working as a barmaid, those days toiling to just survive in any job. Fielding crude comments, cruel employers, wondering some days if the universe was entirely against her. But she had her paintings. If nothing else, she had that.
But, sometimes, one just needs a stiff drink. At least this bar, out in the Sea of Nectar, seems... nice. Nothing like any of the bars in Dunwall. She leans over the railing of the balcony, looking out at the ocean. This view is a hell of a lot nicer than any in Dunwall, too. Ah, but she needs another drink already, she’s watching the empty glass dangle between her fingers with faint annoyance. She pushes herself up, turns, and... elbows some poor patron’s drink right out of their hand. She looks down at the broken glass, then up at the unfortunate lady, and she thinks that she can’t be that inebriated already.
“Oh, my,” she says, running her fingers through her hair with a faint grimace. “My apologies, how clumsy of me... I’ll buy you another one. What was it you had?” She looks up at him, an eyebrow arched.
