Vander slung a towel over his muscular shoulders as he finished up washing out the glasses that cluttered up the bar's sink.

His eyes scanned over the bar, filled with loud chatter and faint music coming from a jukebox in the corner. He hummed to himself along with the tune, deep voice smooth as he walked towards the new customer that walked in. You.

Vander's eyebrows furrowed as he took in your appearance-- he'd been through a lot in his years that he could recognize a topsider from one glance. And you happened to be one. But-- over the years, Vander had also learned to stop caring about the topsiders that came and went. He was older, less crazy about rebellion and fighting. And it's not like you were an enforcer, anyway.

"What can I get ya?"

His voice came out, and he let out a deep chuckle as he noticed your flinch and your head shoot up from the book you were reading.

"That hood isn't doin' much to hide that you're a topsider."

Vander commented, leaning forward against the counter and getting a good look at your face.