[Oasis] Help Me, Enoch-san! [Fletcher]

A beautiful blue-skinned genie strolled into the empty bar. She wandered around town by herself with no indication on where to go. She received help from that Solamh guy, but she was otherwise stuck trying to adjust to a new time frame. She fell asleep one thousand years ago and missed a lot of news since. She also wanted to find a job and place to stay, but thus far that hadn't worked out. She wondered if it was because of her outdated, skimpy attire.

Ursa sat on one of the bar stools. Were the drinks the same? She noticed that across the street appeared to be one of those flashy exotic dancer clubs she used to work at. It gave her terrible flashbacks. On one hand, she enjoyed dancing and performing; on the other hand, she despised the maltreatment she received. She was so caught up in fighting with her memories that she failed to even notice if anyone else was around or not.

The djinn rubbed her head. The mental scars were real.

@"Fletcher"

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the coaster that suddenly slid in front of her. Ursa blinked; she hadn't noticed someone entered. That someone was behind the counter, so she was clearly dealing with the bartender. Her being startled usually caused her to drop the temperature a degree or two, but she felt oddly relaxed for once despite the surprise. The djinn glanced at the man just as he was finishing up the drink. Her long hair trailed over her shoulder as she turned.

A small smile cracked on her face as the drink was placed in front of her. So the first drink was free...that was good. She wasn't planning on getting drunk anyway. That's not how she went about drinking. ...Well no, that was a flat out lie, but she didn't want to go about drinking in that manner tonight. She took a drink from the glass. It was rather good. She could see what he meant with his choice. Her oddly warm blue eyes focused on the gentleman as she began to speak.

"I...."

Her shyness kicked in. She glanced away meekly.

"I-I feel...stress. I j-just....moved here."

The woman had more of her drink. She was trying to get over her fear of socialization, but the anxiety distorted her speech. Perhaps she could relax with this. Her mind contemplated the choice of words and she frowned slightly.

"Does drifting here in a bottle even count as moving..."

The aforementioned bottle sat on her hip. That line of dialogue was intended to be a thought, but it was spoken aloud by accident. She fidgeted uncomfortably at her mistake.

@"Fletcher"