Lt. Tyegëa in her standard-issue blue-and-gold military uniform walks into the bar... and the doorframe. Adjusting her beret with DEN's seal embroidered upon its front, so as to pull her long hair away from her eyes, she regains her footing, wincing in pain.
"Son of a..." she muttered under her breath, clutching her elbow. "It just had to be the funny-bone!"
Crying out, Tyegëa staggered towards the bar and, hoping for something strong to dull the pain, quickly took a look at the list of drinks available. Skimming past the light beers, wines, brandies, scotches and even the vodkas, she immediately feasted her eyes on the liqueurs, the strongest of the strong.
"Hail, Barkeep!" signalled she, taking a seat between gasps, "I don't suppose you could serve up three-and-a-half shots of Midori, mixed with lemonade in a tankard, eh?"
