Cinderblock Bar

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You resign yourself to a life in the service industry, and make your way down to the Cinderblock Bar. It didn't have the greatest reputation- it always felt somewhat cramped, and planted on the edge of the bad part of town- but, hey, bills are bills. You make your way into the innocuous building and find yourself a manager.

He's a big hunk of a boar, with mean-looking tusks and a meaner scowl. To your surprise, you glide right through the application and interview process in a few hours. Apparently they're gearing up for a big weekend, and really need all paws on deck. You're trained to wait tables before you know it. You swap out your more casual wear and find yourself in a tight black shirt advertising the bar instead. To your satisfaction, it hugs your chest and shoulders just as generously as the ratty t-shirt you'd brought with you.

By 5 o'clock, furs are starting to stream into the bar almost faster than the staff can keep up. Looks like your manager might've been right; even for a Wednesday, things are getting pretty busy. You've got your paws full for hours. You dance between tables, take orders, and even pour a drink or two.

By the time you're finally hitting your first break, you're tuckered out. Your shirt clings tightly to your slightly damp mane and coat, and grabbing one of the few available chairs to take a breather is a much-needed relief. You're just about ready to take a break when they catch your eye.

Someone's staring at you, quite fixedly, from across the bar. You consider yourself a man of some confidence, but...something about the look you're given makes the fur on the back of your neck stand up.

But who are they?


Furry Status
Health 98 Equipment:

Phone, Wallet, Keys, Cinderblock Uniform

Gender Male
Species Lion
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