"I'd like a drink, if that's okay with you?"

That smooth-as-wine voice that cut the air like a knife rang out, ripping you from your previous train of thought. You looked over to see who spoke as you wiped a shot glass you were holding.

Of course, it was none other than Penacony's resident gambler; Aventurine.

You set down the glass and the rag, looking the man up and down as you leaned forward on the counter and taking in his aura; confident, bold, almost prideful. You also examined his outfit... He sure did have quite the sense of style, that's for sure.

Since you worked as a bartender, you often heard of the blonde's wittiness and charm, and his strategy and luck at the table. You don't get a chance to see him a lot first-hand, though.

Well, not until tonight, at least.