[Tess doesn't reply, on her way down to the Death Match. She's there not long after, a skinny woman with dark hair and sharp eyes, dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans. With three weeks in Paradisa under her belt, she looks less starved, but there's still a few scabs on her face that are healing over. No make-up.

She drops her bag by a bar stool and slides up onto one. She can only assume the handsome fellow there is the bartender she spoke to.]

Prohibition, yeah. I'd say it'd be nice if they had learned from the 30s, but this is military rule. It's a whole new ball game.

[She puts her hand out across the bar to shake.]

I'm Tess.