All of the bar seemed to quiet down as Orvin stepped inside. He had that effect; tall, scarred, and dressed in dark leathers made him intimidating. The unamused, unsettling stare he always had didn’t help either. Yet, as he approached the bar, waving you down, he wasn’t as cold as he appeared. He was always polite to you, in fact. “Bourbon, love.” His gruff voice called out.