The Spark {Hangout Area} // Open

The Spark {Hangout Area} // Open Dec 2, 2013 19:52:38 GMT -5

Post by Anatra on Dec 2, 2013 19:52:38 GMT -5

The Spark

It was modestly lit, almost dim. It was nice and quite and only the occasional clatter of drinking glasses which were in no way commonly alcoholic. Unless it could be afforded. There were some people at the tables in the corner. Their voices were a little loud but nothing all too rattling. There was a surprising lack of density to the atmosphere and it smelled particularly clean. Somebody clearly spent a lot of their time keeping this place up to shape.

That person was behind the counter, pulling a drink which again - was not alcoholic. Probably some kind of fizzy lemon drink. She has red hair and blue eyes, and her face is filled with shy freckles. But she is in no way, shape or size shy. She is in fact quite large and is wearing some kind of overalls with electricity symbols on them. Maybe she was a power plant worker in her off time. If she got any.

OOC (Notes):

- Simply RP any Npcs as you see fit
- Interact with anybody within the bar
- Get funky

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Dayta Foster

It was difficult today. I had to work as part of a team to find the quickest way to wire an automatic door. It was a simple task, but was made harder by confederates. People who are put in place to test you, assigned by the teachers. They asked really pointless questions and practically pushed me to answer them. It was ruthless and somewhat strenuous. I don't need to explain how the motion sensor picks up motion, because it is a motion sensor. Maybe if I was making the motion sensor, we'd have a different situation.

Time to let off some steam. I think to myself, walking down the dusty road to The Spark. It was somewhere I went often, sometimes I meet some old friends. Sometimes I meet no-one. But sometimes I meet new people, and we mostly end up talking about how a door need sufficient power sources to even begin to move. This is how the Capitol uses our District. To move doors, move trains. Power trains and even their pathetic Arenas. I could probably do a better job than those who make the Games, whoever that even is. Not that I'd want to.

I open the door, and it is particularly peaceful. The only source of peace in District Three, right here in front of me. I don't like peace, but I do like the orange mix-up that the lass behind the counter makes. Don't even know her name. Don't really need to, she doesn't look like my type.

That was a joke, she's like forty.

I order my drink and trade some of the small bites of bread we get given at work for lunch. I'd rather go hungry than go thirsty any day.

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Word Count: 288