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[It's been a difficult few weeks for Noire and she could definitely use a night out.
After eavesdropping on a number of her fellow trainees it sounds like the best place to cut a rug and chug a jug in Spaghetti Town is the notorious Club Xtacy.
The only issue now is gaining entry into the infamous establishment]
>My official government issued ID, sir. I assure you it's completely legit. Not a laminated playing card with my picture taped to it at all. And shame on you if the thought even entered your head. Which I'm sure it didn't. I mean, how could it? Hahaha....
Uh huh. Sez you're name iz Opal P. Honeypot, date o' birf April 1st 2012. So you're 12 years old?
>Wh-what? Of course not! Th-they probably just transposed the last two digits of my birthday
So you're 2?
>Well not until December. I-I mean not SINCE December! December of, uh.. 2004?
Whatever, just keep your head down and your nose clean. Never take your eyes off your drink, don't accept party favours from anyone you don't know, and stay the fuck away from the 3rd floor. Also don't fall for the ol' "hey come do blow off this toilet seat with us" rib. It ain't blow. Enjoy your evening.
>Uh, thanks..
[Noire scans the room for familiar faces.
She spots Sheila, and is that Kanoko? There's also a blonde with pigtails who seems awfully familiar but whose name she can't quite place.
More important than who she sees is who she doesn't see; Scarlet.
Noire breathes a sigh of relief and saunters on up to the bar]
>Gimme a Shirley Temple... uh, Black
[Noire downs the cloyingly sweet cocktail in one heroic gulp.
Unfortunately the single drop of bitter alcohol it contains is enough to make her spew the drink all over herself, the barman, and even a few other patrons]
