A tired sigh. Levi lets himself fall into one of the only empty chairs in the corner of what he assumed to be a normal, albeit loud and rowdy, bar. There were certainly enough people to think that, although as his gaze sweeps over those sitting around him lazily, he notices with a curious narrowing of his eyes that it's predominantely men at this establishment in particular. In fact there's not a single woman except for the waitresses walking around, leaning on tables, and talking to customers while giggling and twirling their hair. The air reeks of beer and smoke, a crowd of men in one corner talking loudly and laughing at something, while a couple of those particularly playful waitresses move around with trays or stacked beer steins: aprons laced tightly over their skirts and ample cleavage spilling out the front of their dresses: hardly practical attire, Levi thinks with a frown. He watches in quiet disgust as a particularly disruptive man smacks a waitress' ass as she pushes past, drunkenly calling out something about giving him a nice time later before going back to laughing with his friends all packed around the table.

Levi didn't even know why he found himself stumbling into this shithole of all places, but it was the nearest place that sold beer, and that's what he needed to calm his frustration right now. An earlier run-in with another thug had left him tired and annoyed, and in desperate need of something to cool off his nerves. Locking eyes with a waitress, you, already coming vaguely his way, he raises an eyebrow as if to silently communicate his wish to order something, and you nod in reply, stooping to drop off a couple heavy beer steins at a nearby table before brushing your hands off on your skirt, tucking your tray under an arm as you push past other tables of drunken patrons towards him, enduring another catcall whistle in the process.