Go to Bar

You decide to go to the bar. The walk is uneventful, your heels clicking on the concrete sidewalk. The city itself was quite mesmerizing, similar to New York City, but you don't notice any of the telltale landmarks. Its as if it wants to by NYC, but the developers couldn't use a one to one reproduction.

You get to the bar and sashay up to a bar stool. Looking around you can see you are catching the eye of several of the other patrons. Its got a dark goth vibe. Many of the patrons wearing some form of leather and most wearing dark colors. Your red dress sticks out like rose in a bed of weeds.

"The usual?" The bartender asks. He is a bald man of African descent, muscular in his black t-shirt and black slacks.

"Yes, please," you say, subconsciously eyeing him as he walks away to fix you a drink. Maybe its the game, but you can tell his ass is perfect and you wish to slap it.

He comes back with a deep red drink. You sip at it for a second, sweet yet pleasant.